IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


i.U     v°  ^^ 


I.I 


1.25 


Hi 


21 
22 

IM 

1.8 


1-4    11.6 


V] 


7 


y 


-  *--■—■■—■-  *■ 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 

1980 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  In  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mdthode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquds  ci-dessous. 


D 
D 
D 
D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 

Covers  damaged/ 
Couverture  endommag^e 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaur6e  et/ou  pellicul6e 

Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


□    Coloured  maps/ 
Cartes  g6ographiques  en  couleur 

□    Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

□    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

□    Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relid  avec  d'autres  documents 


D 


D 


Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serr^e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  is  long  de  la  marge  intdrieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajout6es 
iiors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  film^es. 


D 
D 
D 


V 


D 
D 
D 
D 
D 
D 


Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagdes 

Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaurdes  et/ou  pellicula  )s 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d6color6es,  tachetdes  ou  piqu6es 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d^tach^es 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Qualitd  indg^le  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  materiel  supplementaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  ref  Imed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6t6  filmdes  d  nouveau  de  fagon  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


D 


Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl6mentaires: 


D 


10X 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filmi  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu6  ci-dessous. 

18X  22X 


14X 


26X 


30X 


12X 


^ 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Douglas  Library 
Queen's  University 


L'exemplaire  filmi  fut  reproduit  grflce  d  la 
g6n6ro8it6  de: 

Douglas  Library 
Queen's  University 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettet6  de  l'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprim^e  sont  film6s  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
derniire  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  fiimds  en  commen^ant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  •-^-(meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — ►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
film^s  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  film6  d  partir 
de  Tangle  supdrieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

OLIVER  OPTIC'S 


ARMY  and  NAVY  STORIES. 


A  Library  for  Your.g  and  OUt,  in  hix  voliiiiieh. 
Uiiiiu.    lUudtruti-d.    I'cr  vul.,  $1.60. 

Tile     Hiiilor     Hoy,     or    Jack 
Soiners  in  llie  Navy. 

Tlio    "^^tinlceo    IVlltlcly,    or 

AdvciiUirt's  ol  a  Naval  Olticcr. 

Bl*a.V<i     Old     Halt,    or   Life   on 
ihe  (^ii.irlt.r  l>cck. 

Tlio     Holclii'f     l^oy,    or  Tom 

Somcrs  in  the  Army. 

Tlie  ^"ouiin*  T-jlovitoiia-nt, 

Or  'I'lii.'  y\tivi:iiUireb  ol  an  Army  Oltites. 

FI|t:ll1.ill£i:    (Toe,   or  llie   Fortunes 
ol  a  .Slatt  Officer. 

"  The  writiii(;H  of  Olivor  Optic  are  the  most  p<>- 
I'liliurly  tittol  t<ir  juvenile  reiuleiH  of  iitiy  works 
now  (MibliHlied.  Tliere  in  iifrcHlineHs  and  vivaeily 
ul)uut  llicni  wliicli  iH  very  (Mifjiininn  to  older  rend- 
ers. 'I'he  lienelit  wliieli  a  younf{  mind  Mil)  ob- 
tain from  reiidniK  the  healthy  deseriptiona,  fidl  ot' 
7.e8t  and  life,  and,  wilhul,  eoiiluininK  a  ^reut  deal 
of  very  nsefnl  information,  in  almont  meulenlii- 
ble.'   -  Julutlo  tUude. 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  I'.oston. 


OLIVER   OPTIC'S 

MAGAZINE. 

OLIVER  OPTIC,  Editor. 

FVMJUWB  MONTMLVi 

Back  aaabar  oaatains : 
Part  af  a  NEW  STORY,  by  th«  K<kUr. 
STORIES  aad  SKETCHES.  I>y  vafmlar 

authora. 
As  ORIGINAL  DIALOGUE 
A  DECLAMATION. 
PUZZLES.  REBUSES,  &c 
All  Uand0tn0lp  /lIvMtralMl. 
Tuuu:  la.50  per  year ;  as  cu.  per  n— hut. 

Sold  EvmrwHBKM. 

(^^  Remember,  this  llfaKazine 
coittaiiiH  more  r»ailiii|j;  matter 
than  any  other  Juvenile  maf^a- 
xine  puhllMlied. 

Specimen  copies  sent  free  by  mail  on  appli- 
cation. 


ilj^^fia 


LEE  £  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  Boston. 


OLIVER   OPTIC'S 


RIVERDALE  STORIES. 

Twelve  vohmiet.    Profusely  illustrated  from  new 

desif^ns  liy  Uillin[;s.     In  neat  box. 

Cloth.     I'er  vol..45c. 

T..ittle<    Mei'tihant. 
Yonnju:    Voyajjer.s. 
Christma.s    GJ-ilt. 
liolly    a.ntl    I. 
TTiicle    Ben. 
Hirthday   Party. 
Proud    Mncl   T^ayiy. 
0;ireles-i«    Ivate. 
lioljiiaHOM    Cru.Moe,    Jr. 
The    Piciiitf    Party. 
I'he    Oohl    Thiirxble. 
'^I'he    T><)-?S<>i>iet  hinjiH. 

•'  AnxiouR  mothers  who  wish  to  keep  their  hoys 
out  of  Miischief,  \v  ill  do  well  to  keep  their  hands 
tilled  with  one  of  the  numerous  volumes  of  Oliver 
Optie.  'I'hey  ull  have  a  K"o<l  moral,  are  full  of 
tascinatinx  incidents  niin)r|ed  with  instruetion, 
and    teac^h   that  strainht-forwardness   is  hest."   - 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  Boston. 


OLIVER    OPTIC'S 

YOUNG  AMERICA  ABROAD. 

A  Library  of  T'avel  and  Adventure  in  Foreign 

J^anda.      Kimo.      Illustrated   tiy  Nust, 

Stevens,  I'erkins,  anil  others. 

I'er  volume,  $1.60. 

Ollt/^yard     Tloillld,    or    Young 
America  Alloat. 

Hlianiroctlc    <fe   Tlilstle,  or 

Yoiui^  Anieiica  in  Ireland  and  Scotland. 

Hed    OrosN,   or  Young  America  in 
EiiKland  and  VV.iles. 

TJikeS    &     Oltolies,  or  Young 
America  ii:  Holland  and  lielgium. 

Palaoe  «fe  Oottapfe,  or  Young 
America  in  France  and  Switzerland. 

Do^yii    tine   Tlliliie,  or  Young 
America  in  (iermany. 

"These  are  by  far  the  most  instructive  hooks 
written  hy  this  popular  author,  and  while  nuiin- 
tainiuK  tliruu)ihout  enough  of  exeitement  and  ad- 
venture to  enehttin  the  Interest  of  the  youthful 
reader,  there  is  still  a  great  amount  of  informa- 
tion conveyed  respeetinji  Ihe  history,  natural  fila- 
tures, and  geography  of  this  far-oti'  land,  and  the 
peculiarities  of  the  places  and  people  which  they 
contain."—  Gazelte. 

LEE  &  SHEPARD.  Publishers,  Boston.         ^^ 

C/Ol 


hooks 
iiiiiiii- 
nii  inl- 
tiithtul 
t'oriiiu- 
ul  li'ft- 
lui  the 
U  lliey 


^^{y3^ 

|i  OLIVER  OPTIC'S 

LAKE   SHORE   SERIES. 

Six  Vols.,  Illust.     Pkr  vol.,  J1.25. 


ThroHirli  by  Daylight  ; 

<  )r,    riif  Voiiiij;  Engineer  of  the   Lake 
Slinre    K.uho.ul. 

Li$;litiiiii$;  ICxpress; 

Or,   I'liij  I'.iv.il  Academies. 

On  TiiiKt ; 

Or,  'I'lic  Voinig  Captain  of  the  UcayKa 
SlL-anier. 

Switch  Off; 

( )r,  Tlic  War  of  tile  Students. 

Knike  IFp; 

Or,   I'lie  Vcpiiiii;  Peacemakers. 

Hear  and  Forbear ; 

Or,  1  lio  Vdim^  .Ski|)per  of  Lake  Ucayga. 

(iplivcr  Optii'  owfH  lii.H  |X)|>iilurity  to  11  ploasinit 
Htvic,  anil  til  a  rrail;  hyiiipathy  with  thiMlri'iiiiis, 
lioprij,  a!t|iirittiiiiiM,  anil  taiicics  ul'thf  yuiin^;  (icoplc 
tiir  whiiiii  ho  \vrilc>.  lie  wrilcs  liki-  a  wise,  (imt- 
t;r(jwii  liuy,  and  his  hunks  Innc  tlicri'lctri'  a  tr»'sh- 
iifHs  uii(i  raiincvs  rarely  attaiiit'tl  hy  his  I'clhiw 
Hcrihei).  —  i'hri.itiiin  Adrocate. 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  l{..st<.n. 


OLIVKR    OPTIC'S 

BOAT  CLUB    SERIES. 

Six  Vols.,  Ili.ust.     Per  vol.,  j5 1.25. 

>o« 

The  Boat  Club ; 

( )r,   I'he  I'liinkurs  of  Rippleton. 

All  Aboard  ; 

<  ir,   l>ile  on  the  Lake. 

Now  or  Never  ; 

Or,  tlio  Adventures  of  Hobby  Bright. 

Try  Again ; 

<  )r,  rhe  Trials  and  Triumphs  of  Harry 

Wl'sI. 

Poor  and   Proud ; 

Or,   I'he  Fnrtiines  of  Katy  Redburn. 

Little  by  Little; 

Or  The  Cruise  of  the  Flyaway. 

Boys  and  ^irlH  Imvo  no  tnsto  for  dry  and  taint' 
tliiiigH;  they  want  somi'tliinn  tiint  will  Htir  tht- 
hliHul  antt  warm  thi'  heart.  Optic  ulwavH  ilm's 
this,  while  at  till'  same  time  he  improves  the  taste 
mill  eleviitoH  the  moral  nature  'I'he  eondiiK  }?«'"■ 
erutioii  of  men  will  never  know  how  nnieh  the^y 
are  inilehted  for  w  hat  is  pun-  and  enobliug  to  his 

writii  K".  —  A'.  I.  Scfuiolinate. 


LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  Boston. 


VJ0Oa 


^ 


«/0i 


-> 


OLIVER  OPTIC'S 

STARRY  FLAG  SERIES. 

Six  Vols.,  Illust.     Per  vol.,  ^1.25. 
>o» 

The  Starry  Tla;;; 

Or,  I  lie  Vou!  g  ;  isherman  of  Cape  Ann. 

lireakin;;  Away; 

( )i,    I'lie  rortni  cs  (if  a  Student. 

Seek  and  Find ; 

( )r,   I'lic  Adventiiics  of  a  .Smart  Boy. 

Freaks  of  Fortune; 

Or,    Half  koiiiid  the  World. 

Make  or  Itreak ; 

Or,    J'lio  Riih  M.ui's  Daughter. 

Down  the  lliver; 

( )r,  IliK  k    I'lr-Klloid  and  his  Tyrants. 

These  hookN  are  excitiiifi;  narratives,  and  AdI  of 
stiirinn  uilventnres,  lint  Ihi'  yiiutht'ul  heroes  ol'  the 
.stories  art'  nolile,  .selt-NuiM'itli'in^;,  and  coin-ageouH, 
and  the  Ntories  cuntaiii  nothing  which  will  do 
injury  In  the  ininil  or  liearl  of  the  youthful  reader 
-  H'eUiter  'I'inii  s. 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  Boston. 


OLIVKR   OPTIC'S 

WOODVILLE  STORIES. 

Six  Vols.,  Ili.u.st.     PeR  vol.,  $1.25. 
•<>• 

Rieh  and  Humble; 

( )i,   llie  Mission  (if  Bertha  Grant. 

Ill  School  and  Out; 

<  )i,  ihc  t  (iiupie.st  of  Richard  Grant 

Watch  and  Wait; 

<  )r,    Iho  \  (iinig  Fugitives. 

Work  and  Win ; 

<  )i,  Niidiiy  Newman  on  a  Cruise. 

If  ope  and    Have; 

( )r,  I'.niny  (irant  anmng  the  Indians. 

Haste  and  Waste ; 

Or,    The   Young  Pilot  of  Lake   Cham- 

phtiu. 

OliM'r  ()pti(?  is  th(!  upo8tolio  Buccessor,  at  the 
"Hull,     nt    Peler    Parley.     He  has  just  completed 

the   "  W Ivilli    ^t^l^ie's,"  hv  the   pnhlication  of 

"Haste  anil  Waste."  The  hist  notice  to  give  of 
thiiii  is  til  iiientioii  that  a  couple  of  yoinigsters 
piilli'il  them  lint  .il  the  pile  two  hours  since,  and 
are  yet  (li'Miiiring  llieiii  out  in  the  suninier- house 
(alheil  autumn  leaves  cover  it)  obliviuUH  to  luutiin 
tune.  —  .V.   )'.  Li'itilfr. 


LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  Boston. 


■t^Oi 


t. 


■■<•?. 


0E 

at  Qmn's  Unix^etsitu  OKmt 


^- 


'1>A»^- 


o 


rKKlu     i.P   ADRIFT. 


JIY 


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XltOF.  JAME.S  PE   MILLE, 

■'    ■    '#*   ».   O    W.  C.,**  "'irt,r   BOV<-  OK  «»AKf>  J'RK   SCHOOL, 


ILL  CS  TJt  AT  ICI^. 


aoSTON: 

'  ^'^   I'll. !,{%'":!  ^  >* 


SHJERf..., 


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.IflK  J'  i' 


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1 


PICKED   UP  ADEIFT. 


BY 


PROF.  JAMES  DE  MILLE, 


»** 


AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  B.  O.  W.  C,"  "  THK   BOYS  OF  GRAND  PRE  SCHOOL, 

"  LOST  IN  THE  FOG,"  "  FIRE  IN  THE  WOODS,"  "  THE  TREASURE 

OF   THE    SEAS,"  "AMONG    THE    BRIGANDS," 

•'  THE  SEVEN  HILLS,"  ETC. 


ILL USTRATED, 


BOSTON : 
LEE     AND     SHEPARD,    PUBLISHERS. 

NEW  YORK: 
LEE,  SHEPARD  AND  DILLINGHAM. 

1872. 


'-'-  i^s ^  ^  ■,- r- fsf  ?■'■ 


vt-' 


V    'ii     i'\     \.C  ;»J    'A\\*^ 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congresa,  in  the  year  18?^, 

By  LEE  AND  SIIEPAKD, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington, 


*  ■ 


■  •     ■  • 


Electrotyped  at  the  Boston  Stereotype  Foundry, 
19  Spring  Lane. 


p.- 


TUB  "^.  a  W.  Cr   SBRIES. 

'"^l    1<i<\T'   Olft    I»r   .t™...:,!,.^.!   Ir,    ♦.,,14       ^   :.  .r.. 


TO  BB  COMPLKTKD  IN  SIX  VOLS. 


,av,^>;r(ii^/' 


1.  THE  "B.  O.  W.  C."        v^   • 

2.  THE  BOYS  OF  GRAND  PRE  SCHOOL. 

3.  LOST  IN  THE  FOG. 

4.  FIRE   IN  THE  WOODS. 

5.  PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 

(Others  in  preparation.) 


m 


314733 


Offl 


i^aiHOO 


%  "■^^'-  .ftC^  5.5^^  t- 


71  r    :■ 


...ji*"   Ifi,-  ;,„.i.      J... -.i'^  )/t ,, 


CONTENTS. 


I. 


PAGE 


The  enterprising  Voyageurs.  —  A  Parliament.  —  Where 
shall  we  go  next  f —  The  Islands  of  the  Sea.  —  Captain 
Corhefs  Confession.  —  Once  more  upon  the  Waters.  — 
The  lonely  Isle.  —  The  strange  Schooner.  —  Ashore.  — 
A  new  Acquaintance.  —  A  Disciple  of  Progress.  — Rail- 
roads and  Telegraphs  for  the  Magdalen  Islands.    ,        .     11 

11. 

[A  new  Acquaintance.  —  The  Islands  of  the  Sea.  —  Making 
Friends.  —  The  Natives.  —  A  Festival.  —  EffoHs  at  Con- 
versation in  an  unknown  Tongue.  —  Corhefs  Baby  Talk. 

—  Experiments  of  Bart  and  Tim.  —  Pat  comes  to  Grief. 

—  Overthrow  of  the  French.  — Arrival  of  the  Skipper  on 
the  Scene.  —  He  means  Business 26 


III. 

\Friendly  Advice  and  dismal  Forebodings.  —  Once  more 
npon  the  Waters,  yet  once  more.  —  Due  North.  —  A 
Calm.  —  The  Calm  continues.  —  A  terrible  Disclosure.  — 
Despair  of  Corbet.  —  Solomon  finds  his  Occupation  gone. 
—  Taking  Stock.  —  Short  Allowance.      .        .        .        .88 

IV. 

^The  third  Day.  —  A  strange  Sail.  —  Below  the  Horizon.  — 
Making  Signals.  —  No  Answer.  —  Weary  Waiting.  — 
Starvation  stares  them  in  the  Face. — A  long  Day. — 
Hope  dying  'out.  —  A  long  Discussion  upon  the  Situa- 
tion. —  The  last  Meal.  —  Bruce  and  Bart  come  to  a  des- 
perate Determination.  —  The  secret  Resolve.  .        .        .52 

5 


CONTENTS. 


Daybreak.  —  Startling  Discovery.  —  The  Boat  gone.  —  \ 
Where  are  Bruce  and  Bart?  —  Dismay. —  The  long 
Row.  —  The  distant  Ship.  —  Below  the  Horizon.  — 
Deep  in  the  Water.  —  2'Ae  shattered  Sails.  —  Watei'- 
logged  !  —  Boarding  the  Stranger.  —  Discoveries  of  a 
Kind  which  are  at  once  exciting  and  pleasing,      .        .     G5 

Bruce  and  Bart  on  hoard  the  deserted  Ship,  —  Hew  Dis',^ 
coveries.  —  The  Cook's  Galley.  —  A  sumptuous  Repast.  — tf 
,  Observations. —  A  Return  baffled.  —  Back  again.  —  The 
Antelope. —  The  Ripple  in  the  Water.  —  Speculations.  — 
The  Sail  to  the  Ship.  —  Puzzle  about  the  lost  Ones.  -- 
Nearer  and  nearer.  —  Unexpected  and  astounding  V  el' 
come!      .        .        . 79 

■    -    '"U 

All  aboard.  —  A  Welcome  of  the  best  Kind.  —  The  Inv\ta'-il\  ' 
Hon. —  The  Banquet.  —  Amazement  of  the  Visitors.  — ,'\ 
The   Repast.  —  Solomon   in  his  Glory.  —  The   Manu-v.t 
script  found  in  a  Bottle.  —  The  Fate  of  the  Petrel.  — 
Captain  Corbet  has  an  Idea.  —  lie  begins  to  brood  over  it. 
—  A  Question  of  Salvage.  .—  Ilow  to  make  one's  Fortune.    92 


VITI. 


'^^ 


.,\k- 


.<  J 


Solomon  in  his  Glory.  —  The  Breakfast  a  splendid  Suc- 
cess. -^  Out  of  Starvation  and  into  the  Land  of  Plenty. 
—  Removal  of  Lodgings.  —  The  Question  of  Salvage.  — 
An  important  Debate.  —  To  go  or  not  to  go.  —  Drop- 
ping Anchor,  —  The  final  Departure.  —  Corbet  bids  a 
fond  Farewell.  —  Alone  in  the  water-logged  Ship.     ,     ..  105 

IX. 

Corbet  at  the  Helm.  —  Visions  by  Night.  —  The  Vision  of 
sudden  .Wealth,  —  Over  the  Waters.  —  The  Ocean  Isles, 


CONTENTS. 


f 


—  A  startling  and  unwelcome  Sight.  —  Landing  of 
Corbet.  —  Corbet   among   the  Mounseers.  —  Unpleasant        ^ 
Intelligence.  —  An  unwelcome    Visitor.  —  A  sharp  In- 
quisition.  —  Corbet   in   a    Corner.  —  The  Answers  of 
Guile  and  Simplicity.  —  Perplexity  of  Cross-examiner.  118 


j:> 


-tvv.  —  ."V" 


■V"         '  C3  5^i      VJ-.  J»j  ^«\J^JL 


The  baffled  Inquisitor.  —  Corbefs  Flight  by  Night.  —  Dead 
Reckoning.  —  His  Purpose  accomplished.  —  Once  more 
an  unwelcome  Visitor.  —  The  warning  Words.  —  Coi'- 
bet  confident.  —  ^^  Might  straight  back." —  The  stormy 
Water.  —  The  gloomy  Night  and  the  gloomier  Day. — 
Where  is  the  Petrel  ?  —  Despair  of  Corbet.     ;^"       .       -, 


182 


.  ^  |«  ^^j  li* V*  ^,1  • 


• '  •  :if»\  «>5\Hy  XI,         -^154':-    .  •   - 

' ..---,^.  t-.„.. 

The  water-logged  Ship.  —  Alone  upon  the  Waters.  —  Jolly 
under  creditable  Circumstances.  —  Old  Solomon's  queer 
Fancies.  —  lie  dreads  his  Persecutor.  —  He  prefers  the 
Life  of  Crusoe.  —  Follow  my  Leader.  —  Swimming  in 
deep  Waters. — An  impoi-tant  Meeting.  —  Debates. — 
Parties  formed.  —  Molassesites  and  Sugarites.  —  DeS' 
perate  Struggle  of  Phil,  and  melancholy  Result.    .        .  146 

XII. 

Ingenuity  of  Tom  and  Phil.  —  Checkers  and  Chess.  — 
Speculations  as  to  the  Future.  —  A  elancholy  Forebod- 
ings. —  Where  is  the  Antelope  ? —  A  Change  of  Weather. 
—  Solemn  Preparations  by  Solomon.  —  Making  ready  for 
the  Worst.  —  The  Place  of  Retreat.  —  L  ^ying  in  a  Stock 
of  Provisions.  —  Pitching  a  Tent.  —  Reconnaissance  in 
Force.  — A  midnight  Alarm.  —  Horror  of  Solomon.  — 
A  haunted  Ship.  —  Sleepers  awakened.  —  They  go  to 
lay  the  Ghost.  —  Forth  into  the  Night 160 

XIII. 

*ushing  fo7'th  at  the  Alarm  of  Solomon.  —  The  rolling  Wu' 
ters.  —  The  flooded  Decks.  —  Strange,  unearthly  Noises. 


CONTENTS. 


—  Dread  Fears.  —  Is  the  Ship  breaking  iip  t  —  Conso- 
lations. —  Refuge  in  the  Cabin.  —  A  Barricade  against 
the  Waters..  —  A  damp  Abode.  —  A  Debate,  —  Where  shall 
we  pass  the  Night  f  —  Solomon  on  Guard.  —  The  fourth 
Day,  —  No  Antelope.  —  A  long  Watch.  —  The  Cabin  de- 
serted.  —  Sleeping  on  Deck 174 

A  strange  Sleeping-place.  —  The  Tent.  —  The  View  astern. 

—  Rolling  Waters  in  Pursuit.  —  Morning.  —  Astonish- 
ing Discovery.  —  The  solid  Land  moving  towards  the 
anchored  Ship.  —  How  to  account  for  it.  —  What  Land 
is  this  f —  Various  Theories.  —  Every  one  has  a  different 
Opinion.  —  Solomon  driven  from  the  Cabin.  —  Draw- 
ing nearer.  —  Aji  iron-bound  Coast.     ,« -j^..  j;»,;.^r .y-v     ,  188 


^^TvJiv    HWWv^J   i<A  ■.? 


XV. 


•5^;V'^^M. 


A  miserable  Day.  —  Keeping  their  Courage  up.  —  Solomon 
unmoved.  —  The  Cook  triumphs  over  the  Man.  —  A  big 
Wave.  —  A  Shower-bath.  —  Helter-skelter.  —  All  in  a 
Heap.  —  Flight.  —  The  Rigging.  —  Solomon  ventures 
his  Life  for  a  Ham  Bone.  —  Remarks.  —  Flight  farther 
up. —  The  Mizzen-top.  —  The  Fugitives._  — Pat  ties  him- 
self to  the  Mast.  —  Remonstrances.  —  Pat  is  obdurate.  — 
Night,  and  Storm,  and  Darkness,  j,        ♦        ^    -    ,        , 

Night,  and  Storm,  and  Darkness.  —  The  giddy  Perch.  — 
The  trembling  Ship.  —  The  quivering  Masts.  —A  Time 
of  Terror.  —  Silence  and  Despair. —  A  Ray  of  Hope. — 
Subsidence  of  Wind  and  Wave.  —  Descent  of  the  Boys.  — 
Sufferings  of  Pat.  —  In  the  Mizzen-top.  —  Vigil  of  Bart, 
—  The  Sound  of  the  Surf  —  The  Rift  in  the  Cloud.  — 
Land  near.  —  The  white  Line  of  Breakers.  —  The  black 
Face  of  Solomon.  —  All  explained.  —  The  Boat  and  the 
Oars. —  The  friendly  Cove.  —  Land  at  last.    . 

XVII. 

The  Lookout  over  the  Sea.  —  The  missing  Ship.  —  Where 
are  the  Boys  ? — Wliere  are  the  Boyst —  Where  are  the 
Boys  f  — Where  are  the  Boys  t  —  Where  are  the  Boys  t  — 


.:?^ 


202 


216 


CONTENTS. 


9 


174 


188 


Where  are  the  Boys  ?  —  An  elaborate  CalculatL  — 
Dragging  the  Anchor.  —  A  Chart  on  the  Cabin  Table.  — , 

Writ  in  Water.  —  Hope.  —  The  Antelope  sails  North  hy 
East.  —  Corbet  watches  the  Horizon.  —  Midday.  —  Dc' 
spair,  —  Corbet  cri^hed ! 

The  venerable,  but  very  unfortunate,  Corbet.  —  The  Antelopi 
lies  to.  —  Emotions  of  her  despairing  Commander.  — 
Night  and  Morning.  —  The  Fishing  Schooner.  -  An  old 
Acquaintance  appears,  and  j^uts  the  old,  old  Question,  — 
Corbet  overwhelmed.  —  He  confesses  all.  —  Tremendous 
Effect  on  Captain  Tobias  Ferguson.  —  His  Self-com- 
mand. —  Considering  the  Situation.  —  Wind  and  Tide. 
—  Theories  as  to  the  Position  of  the  lost  Ones.  —  Up 
Sail  and  after.  —  The  last  Charge  to  Captain  Corbet.    . 


230 


243 


202 


.  216 


■'}o?A  ■•>-"  ,'?^n  !i'tVVHV;c>j-    XIX. 


m. 


^^s\ 


The  Cove.  —  The  grassy  Knoll.  —  The  Brook.  —  A  Recon- 
noitre. —  The  Bed  of  the  BrooTc.  —  Far  up  into  the 
Country.  —  A  rough  Road.  —  Return.  —  The  Aroma 
of  the  strange  Dinner.  —  Solomon  again  in  his  Glory.  — 
A  great  Surprise.  — A  Resolution.  —  Drawing  of  Lots. 

—  The  fated  Two.  —  Last  Visit  to  the  Petrel.  —  Final 
Preparations.  —  A  sound   Sleep.  —  The  Embarkation. 

—  The  white  Sail  lost  to  View 


,%w  - 


XX. 


vrt^o?^  i'- 


256 


Trouble  and  Consolation.  —  Afresh  Proposal.  —  flie  Build- 
ing of  the  Camp.  —  Hard  Work.  —  The  triumphant  Re- 
sult. —  Blisters  and  Balsam.  —  A  new  Surprise  by  Solo- 
mon. —  Illumination.  —  The  rising  Wind.  —  They  go 
forth  to  explore.  —  The  impending  Fate  of  the  Petrel.  — 
Wind  and  Wave.  —  A  rough  Resting-place.  —  What  will 
be  the  Fate  of  the  Ship  f —  The  Headland.  —  The  View. 
—  Where  are  our  departed  Friends  t       ,        »        . 

XXI. 

The  Expedition  and  the  Voyagers.  —  Speculations.  —  Din" 
ner  followed  hy  a  Change  of  Wind,  —  A  Squall.  —  Ship- 


2G9 


10 


CONTENTS. 


ping  a  Sea.  —  Nearer  the  Shore.  —  An  iron-bound  Coast. 
—  Rounding  the  Headland.  —  Startling  Sight.  —  The 
Column  of  Smoke.  —  A  Man  on  the  Beach.  —  The  ship- 
wrecked Stranger.  —  Astonishing  Disclosures.  —  Where 
are  we  f  —  The  mournful  IVuth.  —  Anticosti  !  —  Ar- 
thur contains  his  Soul.  —  The  Boys  and  the  Boat  loth 
hauled  up.  —  The  Expedition  ends.     i.'^lL.JtX' ..*  'i,.        .283 

*  "       XXII.  ' 

Bailey's  Den.  —  The  Fire  —  The  blazing  Beacon.  —  Shell 
Fish.  —  Bailey  begins  his  Narrative.  —  Astonishing  Dis- 
closure. —  Mutual  Explanations.  — The  Story  ^f  Bailey. 

—  The  crank  Ship. —  Springing  aleak.  —  Tne  mutinoHS 
Crew.  — A  Storm.  — Taking  to  the   Boats.  —  The  Cap- 
tain sticks  to  his  Ship.  —  Driving  before  the  Wind.  — 
Cast  ashore.  —  How  to  kindle  a  Fire.  —  Plans  for  the    •  ^  ^ 
Future.  —  The  Evening  Repast.  —  The  insatia'tle  Appttite 

of  a  half -starved  Man.  —  Asleep  in  Bailey' ">  Den.   .        .  297 

■  .ftM.  vaxxill.  ■— -^'^^^^-^^  ■^' '  ^'^^ 'V^*^3^^- 

The  Denizens  of  Bailey's  "2)e«."  —  Morning. — A  Sail 
upon  the  Surface  of  the  Sea.  —  The  Spy-glass.  —  Excit- 
ing Discovery  to  the  lost  Ones.  —  The  strange  Schooner. 

—  Exchange  of  Signals.  —  The  Excitement  increases.  — 
The  Schooner  draws  nearer.  —  New  Signals.  — They  take 
to  the  Boat.  —  Out  to  Sea.  —  Rough  Water.  —  Another 
Sail.  —  A  strange  Suspicion.  — Old  Friends.  — Pleasant 
Greetings.  —  Mrs.  Corbet.  —  Obloquy  heaped  upon  the 
Antelope  and  its  venerable  Commander.  —  Away  to  the 
Rescue 310 

xxiv. 

Out  on  the  Headland.  —  Tke  doomed  Ship.  —  The  Struggle 
with  the  Waters.  —  The  ravening  Waves.  —  All  over.  — 
The  last  of  the  Petrel.  —  An  Interruption  at  Dinner.  — 
StaHling  Sight.  —  The  strange,  yet  familiar  Sail. —  A 
grand  and  joyous  Reunion.  —  Away  from  the  Isle  of 
Desolation.  —  The  Antelope  once  more.  —  Over  the  Sea 
to  Miramichi.  —  Farewell.  —  Captain  Corbet  moralizes, 
and  sermonizes 323 


■V  { 


-\\\!,Xi.    ii^  V 


PICIOID  UP  ADRIFT. 


27ie  enterprising  Voyageurs,  —  A  Parliament  — 
Where  shall  tve  go  7c^xt? —  The  Islands  of  the 
Sea.  —  Captain  Corbet's  Confession,  — -  Once  more 
upon  the  Waters. —  The  lonely  Isle. —  The  strange 
Schooner.  —  Ashore.  —  A  new  Acquaintance.  — 
A  Disciple  of  Progrc  ss.  —  Railroads  and  Ttle- 
graphs/or  the  Magdalen  Islands. 

'HE  Antelope  had  traversed  all  the  waters  of 
the  Baie  de  Clialeur,  and  the  enterprising 
voyageurs  on  board  had  met  with  many 
adventures  by  sea  and  land;  and  at  length  all 
these  were  exhausted,  and,  as  the  time  drew  near 
for  their  departure,  the  question  arose  where  next 
to  go,  which  question  was  discussed  in  full  council 
assembled  upon  the  deck;  present  Bruce,  Arthur, 
Bart,  Tom,  Piiil,  Pat,  Captain  Corbet,  Wade,  and 
Solomon,  Bruce  being  in  the  chair  —  that  is  to  say, 
on  the  taffrail. 

11 


12 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


"  All  you  that  are  in  favor  of  going  home,  say 
*  Ay/  "  said  Bruce. 

There  was  a  dead  silence.     Not  one  spoke.       ^\ 

"  That's  not  the  way  to  go  about  it,"  said  Bart. 
"It  isn't  parliamentary.  Let's  do  business  regu- 
larly. Come.  I  rise,  Mr.  President,  to  make  a  mo- 
tion. I  move  that  the  B.  0.  W.  C.  continue  their 
wanderings  as  long  as  the  holidays  last."       .*  ^  " 

"I  second  that  motion,"  cried  Phil. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Bince,  "  it  has  been  moved 
and  seconded  thpt  the  B.  O.  W.  C.  continue  their 
wanderings  as  long  as  the  holidays  last.  All  that 
are  in  favor  of  this  motion  will  please  manifest  it 
by  saying,  ^  Ay.' "      '^^^  ''^'^^  ^^    ■••  •••''•^•- 

At  this  there  was  a  universal  chorus  of  "  Ay."il 

**  Contrary  minds,  '  No.' "  .     ,  ^^ 


Silence  followed. 


■  jS 


>..M,T.,>5 


"It's  a  vote,"  said  Bruce;  "and  now  all  that 
remains  to  do  is  to  decide  upon  the  direction  to  be 
taken. '^  w^ii^.i 

Upon  this  Captain  Corbet  smiled  benignly,  and 
a  glance  of  approval  beamed  from  his  venerable 
eye.  Old  Solomon  grinned  violently,  but  checked 
himself  in  a  moment ;  his  grin  was  drowned  in  a 
low  chuckle,  and  he  exclaimed,  "  De  sakes  now, 
chil'en  alive,  how  you  do  go  on !  Mos'  make  dis 
ole  nigga  bust  hisself  to  see  dese  yer  mynouvrinsi^ 

"  Look  here,  boys,"  cried  Bart,  suddenly  dropping 
altogether  the  "  parliamentary  "  style  in  which  he 
had  last  spoken;   "what  do  you  say  to  a  cruise 


HAUNTED   ISLAND. 


13 


around  the  gulf?  Let's  visit  the  islands;  there 
are  ever  so  many ;  some  of  them  are  uninhabited, 
too.     It'll  be  glorious  I " 

"  Glorious  —  will  it  ?  "  cried  Tom.  "  Wait,  my 
boy,  till  you  know  as  much  about  uninhabited 
islands  as  1  do.  You  don't  catch  me  putting  my 
foot  ashore  on  anything  of  that  sort."     coa.  V 

"  0,  well,  we  needn't  be  particular  about  the  la- 
babitauts,"  said  Arthur.  "  I  go  in  for  islands,  hei>d 
over  heels." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Phil. 

"  Be  the  powers,"  said  Pat,  "  but  it's  meself 
that  howlds  up  both  hands  to  that  same." 

"  Suppose  we  go  to  the  Magdalen  Islands,"  said 
Bruce.  "  They're  right  in  the  middle  of  the  gulf, 
and  it's  a  very  queer  place,  they  say." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Bart ;  "  if  we  go  anywhere,  let's 
go  to  Anticosti.  For  my  part,  I've  always  been 
wild  to  go  to  Anticosti.  I  don't  believe  there's 
another  island  in  all  the  world  that's  equal  to  it. 
It's  cold,  bleak,  gloomy,  uninhabited,  and  full  of 
ghosts." 

"  Full  of  fiddlesticks  !  "  exclaimed  Arthur. 
"  What  do  you  want  of  ghosts  ?  " 

"Well,"  said  Bart,  placidly,  "for  my  part,  I 
think  there  is  something  uncommonly  interesting 
jm^  haunted  island." 

"  A  haunted  island  I  "  repeated  Arthur.  "  Well, 
my  boy,  all  I've  got  to  say  is,  that  if  you  want 
anything  of  that  sort,  you'll  find  the  best  specimen 


14 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


on  Sable  Island ;  so  I  propose  that  we  go  there  at 
once." 

"  Sable  Island  ?  Why,  man  alive,  that's  ever  so 
far  away  ! "  said  Tom.  "  We'd  better  wait  till 
we're  on  our  way  home,  and  leave  that  for  the  last ; 
though,  for  my  part,  I  think  we'd  better  give  it  a 
wide  berth.  I  go  in  for  some  of  the  gulf  islands — 
St.  Paul,  for  instance,  or  St.  Peter."       '^  "'^-  '^  "'^  ^'^ 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  Phil,  "  since  you're  all  so 
crazy  about  islands,  why  can't  we  go  to  the  Bay  of 
Islands  at  onCe  ?  We  can  have  our  fill  of  them 
there,  I  should  think.  For  ray  part  I'm  indifferent. 
I'm  like  Tom ;  I've  had  my  turn  at  a  desert  island, 
and  have  found  out  the  vanity  of  Robinson  Cru- 


soe. 


)j 


bfrx'>ii]r^'i^   111;  V'jrir ''fiOi^'W    f.A     ,.a'.':Uve3- 


"  Sure,  thin,"  said  Pat,  "  and  whin  we're  about 
it,  we'd  betther  take  the  biggist  island  we  can 
find  about  here,  and  that  same  is  Newfoundland. 
Wouldn't  it  be  betther  to  begin  with  that,  thin  ?  " 

"  The  fact  is,  boys,"  said  Bruce,  with  the  air  of 
a  judge  or  an  umpire,  "  we'll  have  to  make  "up  our 
minds  to  visit  all  these  islands.  Each  one  has  his 
preference,  and  each  one  shall  be  gratified.  You, 
Bart,  may  see  Anticosti ;  you,  Arthur,  may  see 
Sable  Island ;  you,  Tom,  may  visit  St.  Paul  and  St. 
Peter ;  you,  Phil,  may  visit  the  Bay  of  Islands ; 
and  at  the  same  time  you,  Pat,  may  see  Newfoiri|t 
land.  Of  course,  then,  I  hope  to  go  to  the  Magda- 
len Islands.  Now,  as  we  are  going  to  visit  all 
these  places,  and  the  Magdalen  Islands  happen  to 


Corbet's  confession. 


15 


be  nearest,  we  will  take  them  first,  while  we  may 
visit  in  turn  Anticosti  and  the  others,  winding  up 
with  Sable  Island,  which  may  bo  postponed  to  the 
last,  since  it  is  the  farthest  off.  We  may  make 
up  our  minds,  boys,  to  no  end  of  adventures. 
We're  all  in  first-rate  training;  we  are  hardened 
by  adventures  on  sea  and  on  shore  ;  we  can  live 
on  next  to  nothing  ;  and  I'm  only  sorry  that  we're 
not  a  little  nearer  to  the  North  Pole,  so  that  we 
might  set  out  now  as  we  are  to  settle  the  question 
forever  about  the  open  Polar  Sea." 

The  extravagant  notion  with  which  Bruce  closed 
jhis  address  was  received  with  shouts  of  laughter 
I  and  applause.  Then  followed  a  confused  conver- 
Isation.  At  length  they  all  gathered  around  Cap- 
tain Corbet,  who  had  thus  far  been  a  listener,  and 
began  to  question  him  about  the  various  places 
which  they  proposed  to  visit.  The  answer  of  the 
venerable  navigator  wa^  not  very  satisfactory. 

"  Wal,  boys,"  said  he,  "  you  put  me  down  in  any 
[part  of  old  Fundy,  an  I'm  to  hum ;  anywhar's 
[between  the  head  of  old  Fundy  an  Bosting,  I 
mow  it  all  be  heart ;  an  I  engage  to  feel  my  way 
[in  fog  or  in  darkness,  or  in  snow-storms,  backard 
m  forard,  year  on  an  year  on ;  but  jest  about 
here  I'm  all  agog.  In  these  here  parts  I'm  a  pil- 
[g^rmn  an  a  stranger,  an  ain't  particularly  to  be 
trfwfed.  But  I  can  navigate  the  Antelope  all  the 
jame,  an  fool  round  in  these  waters  as  long  as  you 
like.    I  ain't  got  any  chart,  terrew ;  but  I've  got 


16 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


an  old  map  of  Canady,  an  kin  scrapo  along  with 
that,  especially  this  Beason  of*  the  year.  I  kin  git 
a  ginral  loadin  idco  of  the  position  of  places,  an 
work  along  the  old  Antelope  wharever  you  want  to 
go.  I'm  an  old  man  myself,  an  don't  mind  this 
kerrewsing  a  bit ;  in  fact,  it's  rayther  agree'ble. 
The  best  of  it  is,  we're  alius  sure  to  fetch  up  some- 

Whar."  .Mr,!.,,!   loWi  .ahi.l  il-MMi  Mltf   hllMl.M'J   niiCiUyra 

...  This  frank  announcement  of  Captain  Corbet's 
ignorance,  of  these  seas  might  have  excited  dis- 
quietude in  the  bosoms  of  less  enterprising  lads ; 
but  the  cruisers  of  the  Antelope  had  seen  and 
known,  and  felt  and  suffered,  too  much  to  be  easily 
disturbed.  Of  Captain  Corbet's  confession  they 
thought  nothing  whatever,  nor  indeed  did  it  really 
matter  very  much  to  them  whether  he  was  ac- 
quainted with  these  waters  or  not.  After  all,  they 
were  not  particular  about  any  destination  ;  any 
mistakes  which  he  might  make  would  not  create 
any  inconvenience  to  them ;  and  even  if,  in  seek- 
ing to  reach  Newfoundland,  he  should  land  them  at 
Cape  Cod,  they  would  not  much  care.  Under 
these  circumstances  they  listened  to  his  words 
with  indifference,  and  if  they  felt  any  disappoint- 
ment, it  was  because  they  were  unable  to  gain 
from  him  any  information  whatever  about  the 
places  which  they  proposed  to  visit.  j-^ 

Since  they  could  gain  no  information,  theyldid 
not  waste  much  more  time  in  conversation,  but 
concluded  to  set  out  without  delay.    And  so  in  a 


^1 


ON  THE  WATERS   AGAIN. 


17 


ittio  wliilo  tho  Antelope  spread  her  white  wings, 

md  began  to  walk  tho  waters  in  her  usual  style, 

ike  a  thing  of  life,  and  all  that.     In  process  of 

iine  she  reached  the  entrance  of  the  bay,  and  then 

passed  out  into  the  gulf. 

It  was  a  glorious  day.    Tho  wind  was  fair.    The 

ntclopc  did  her  .\)est.     The  sun  went  down  that 

[vening  behind  the  high  hills,  and  before  them  lay 

wide    expanse    of   water.      On    the    following 

lorning  they  saw  land  ahead.     The  land  was  an 

jland,  or  a  cluster  of  islands,  and  all  the  boys  felt 

srtain  that  it  was  the  Magdalen  Islands. 

In  spite  of  Captain  Corbet's  ignorance  of  the 

[ulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  he  had  chosen  his  course 

sry  accurately,  for  this  was  indeed  their  destinar 

)n.     As  the  schooner  drew  nearer  and  nearer, 

le  boys  looked  with  curious  eyes  upon  this  remote 

id ''isolated  spot,  situated  in  the  midst  of  the  Gulf 

St.  Lawrence,  and  shut  out  during  all  the  winter 

|onths  from  the  rest  of  the  world  of  man  by  ice, 

id  storms,  and  solitude. 

The  wind  died  away  after  sunrise,  and  hours 
issed  before  they  came  near  enough  to  think  of 
iding.  At  length  the  anchor  was  dropped,  and 
|e  boat  was  made  ready  to  go  ashore.  From  this 
)int  they  could  see  this  new  land  to  the  best  ad- 
ir)t«^o.  They  saw  before  them  an  island  rising 
[gnps^ut  of  the  water,  with  its  green  slopes  cov- 
l-ed  with  grass,  and  crowned  with  trees,  and  dotted 
(ith  white  bouses.     Before  them  there  were  a  cove 


18 


•^f"^' PICKED   UP   ADRIFT.  '"^ 


and  a  sandy  beach,  upon  wliich  boats  were  drawn  up. 
The  other  islands  of  the  group  were  shut  out  from 
view  by  this  one.  Not  far  awaj^  — in  fact,  not  farther 
than  a  stone's  throw  —  there  lay  another  schooner 
at  anchor.  Very  different  was  this  other  schooner 
from  the  Antelope.  The  Antelope,  in  spite  of  its 
many  admirable  and  amiable  qualities,  was  not  par- 
ticularly distinguished  either  for  size,  or  strength, 
or  speed,  or  beauty.  In  every  one  of  these  par- 
ticulars the  other  schooner  was  the  exact  opposite. 
It  was  large  ;  it  was  evidently  new  ;  its  lines  were 
sharp  and  delicate,  indicating  great  speed ;  its 
spread  of  canvas  was  immense  j  it  was  a  model 
of  naval  architecture  ;  while  the  freshness  of  its 
paint,  and  the  extreme  neatness  which  appeared  in 
every  part,  indicated  a  far  greater  care  on  the  part 
of  its  master  than  any  which  the  good  and  gracious 
Corbet  was  ever  disposed  to  exhibit  towards  his 
beloved  Antelope.  On  high  floated  the  Stars  and 
Stripes,  exhibiting  the  nationality  of  the  stranger. 
On  her  stern  the  boys  could  read  her  name  and  na- 
tion. Thev  saw  there,  in  white  letters  underneath 
a  gold  eagle,  the  words,  — 

FAWN-GLOUCESTER. 


"On  land,"  said  Bruce,  gravely,  as  he  loolj^Htat 
the  strange  craft,  "  the  Antelope  and  the  Fa\^Rtre 
somewhat  alike ;  but  on  the  sea  it  strikes  me  that 
there  is  a  slight  difference." 


#^ 


THE  STRANGE  SCHOONER. 


19 


The  other  boys  said  nothing,  but  there  arose  in- 
voluntarily in  the  mind  of  each  a  feeling  not  ex- 
actly of  envy,  but  at  least  a  fervent  wish  that  the 
reseir.blance  which  Bruce  spoke  of  should  exist 
on  tlie  water  as  well  as  on  the  land.  ^  */      'icmonmi^^ 
"  I  suppose  it's  a  yacht,"  said  Bart.   ;>  o/ft  m<nl 
"  Or  a  crui^r/'  said  Arthur. .....  /.i.^  <;,,>?  « 

"  Nothin  of  the  kind,"  paid  Captain  Corbet. 
"  That  thar  craft  ain't  anythin  more  than  a  Glouce^r 
ter  fishing  schewner."  .j,^,,  ^^^_^  ,.,^  Bii;inot* 

"  A  fishing  schooner  ?  "  ps //  it- 

"  Course  ;  an  why  not  ?  Why,  them  Gloucester 
skippers  make  themselves  comfortable  ;  they  know 
how  to  do  it,  tew,  an  this  chap  is  jest  like  the  rest. 
He  makes  himself  comfortable,  keeps  his  schewner 
like  a  palace  or  a  parlor,  an  don't  let  even  so  much 
as  the  scale  of  a  red  herrin  be  seen  about." 

The  boys  went  ashore  in  the  boat.     Bruce  then 

[returned  for  Captain  Corbet,  who  was  touched  by 

this  small  attention.     As  Bart  and  the  rest  waited 

[on  the  beach,  they  noticed  a  small,  neat,  freshly- 

)ainted  boat  drawn  up  not  far  away,  which  needed 

lot  the  name  of  Fawn  on  the  stern  to  assure  them 

that  it  could  belong  to  nothing  else  than  the  smart 

jchooner.     While  they  were  looking  at  it  and  ad- 

liring  it,  a   man   advanced  towards  them,  who 

re§|tfded  them  w^ith  a  puzzled  and   curious   ex- 

jression. 

He  was  a  man  of  middle  age  and  medium  stat- 
ure, with  clean-shaven  face,  close-cut  hair,  and 


20 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


. 


keen  gray  eye.  He  wore  a  dark-blue  frock  coat 
and  wide-awake  hat,  and  did  not  seem  at  all  like  a 
seaman ;  yet  somehow  the  boys  could  not  help  feel- 
ing that  this  very  neatly-dressed  man  must  have 
something  to  do  with  the  Fawn.  He  came  up  to 
them,  and  looked  at  them  with  a  smile.  *"^^*^  *  ch  .tu 
^^  "  Who  in  thunder  are  you,  anyWow  ? "  he  ex- 
claimed, at  length.  "  I  can't  make  you  out  at  all. 
You  belong  to  that  queer-looking  tub  out  there,  I 
see ;  but  who  you  are  and  what  you  are  after  is 
beyond  me."  t       * 

j-  This  style  of  address  struck  the  boys  as  being 
rather  uncivil ;  but  the  good-natured  expression  of 
the  stranger's  face  showed  that  no  incivility  was 
meant,  and  won  their  hearts  at  once.  ^'-^  ^*^*^^  ^^^'^ 
"O,  well,"  said  Bart,  with  a  laugh,  "you  must 
never  judge  by  appearances,  you  know.  We're 
not  a  fishing  vessel.  In  fact,  we're  a  sort  of  char- 
tered yacht,  though  we're  a  very  unpretending 
sort  of  yacht,  and  we  don't  go  in  for  show.  We're 
a  schooner,  cruising  about  in  a  plain,  off-hand, 
homely  manner  for  pleasure,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing."  *  "^^  *^^'- 

'  At  this  the  stranger  burst  into  a  shout  of  laugh- 
ter, which  was  so  cheery,  and  so  hearty,  and  so 
good-natured,  that  the  boys  found  it  impossible  to 
resist  its  contagion,  and  at  length  they  all  joiiL^  in 
also,  thoagh  why  they  were  laughing,  or  whatmey 
were  laughing  at,  they  had  not  the  smallest  idea  in 
the  world. 


A  NEW  ACQUAINTANCE. 


21 


"  Look  here,  boys,"  exclaimed  the  stranger,  at 
length,  as  soon  as  he  had  recovered  from  his  laugh- 
ter; "excuse  me,  but  I  can't  help  it.     I'll  knock 
under.     I  cave  in.     I  don't  understand  it  at  all. 
Have   you   a   looking-glass   aboard   your   tub  out 
there  ?     Has  any  one  of  you   any  idea  what  he 
looks   like  ?     Or   have    you    ever    examined   one 
anotner ;      r».-ivr  y-,-.rr.,,c  ♦•«r<.   t  ■ .'.      .i-ivv.,Y,>i  4<»  fv/\mJof«. 
At  this  the  boys  could  not  help  looking  at  one 
another,  and  at  themselves,  and  at  this  survey  they 
i  began  to  perceive  what  they  had  not  at  all  sus- 
Ipected  —  that  they  were  one  and  all  a  most  disrepu- 
jtable-looking  crowd.     Their  clothes  were  torn  and 
jtained  with  mud,  and  gave  signs  in  every  seam 
md  fibre  of  long  scrambles  through  wood  and  wa- 
ter, and  long  struggles  with  the  elements.     But,  in 
[act,  no  one  of  them  had  thought  of  this  until  this 
loment,  when  they  found  themselves  confronted 
md  laughed  at  by  thi^  well-dressed  stranger. 
"  It  ain^t  the  shabbiness,"  cried  the   stranger, 
that  upsets  me,  but  it's  the  contrast  —  such  faces 
looking   at  me   out   of    such    clothes !     Do    your 
lothers  know  you  are  out?  or,  in  other  words, 
>oy3,  do  your  parents  know  the  particular  way  in 
^hich  you  are  moving  about  the  world?" 
|.  "  0,  well,"  said  Bart,  "  we're  not  a  vain  vessel, 
rou  know.     We're  only  a  plain,  simple,  matter-ot 
Lcrpotato  schooner,  out  for  a  holiday,  and  on  the 
)okout  for  a  little  fun.     We're  not  proud,  and  so, 
)erhaps,  being  a  potato  schooner,  it's  just  as  well 


22 


.^      PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


not  to  be  too  particular  about  clothes.  We've  al- 
ways been  told  not  to  think  too  much  about  dress ; 
and  besides,  this  sort  of  thing  is  ever  so  much 
more  convenient  for  roughing  it,  you  know.'' 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  the  stranger,  "  I  dare  say  you 
looked  very  well  when  you  started  ;  and  after  all, 
clothes  are  not  the  most  important  thing.  At  any 
rate,  I'm  glad  to  meet  you  I  How  d'ye  do,  all? 
I'm  glad  to  see  you  I  How  d'ye  do  ?  I'd  like  to 
know  you.  My  name's  Ferguson,  Tobias  Fergu- 
son, and  I'm  skipper  of  that  there  craft,  the 
Fawn."  ...    _,.  ,  .,, 

Saying  this,  he  shook  hands  with  every  one  of 
the  boys  in  succession,  asked  their  names,  their 
ages,  their  place  of  abode,  the  names,  occupations, 
and  ages  of  their  parents,  and  then  proceeded  to 
inquire  about  their  adventures  thus  far,  and  their 
intentions  in  the  future.  By  this  time  Bruce  had 
re*'.:rned  from  the  vessel  with  Captain  Corbet,  to 
whom  Ferguson  at  once  made  himself  known  ;  and 
thus  in  a  short  time  he  had  come  to  be  on  intimate 
terms  with  all  the  party. 

"  I  just  dropped  in  here  to  Magdalen,"  said  ^e, 
frankly,  "to  fix  up  the  Fawn  a  bit.  'Tain't  much 
of  a  place,  any  ways.  The  people  air  a  lot  of  beg- 
garly, frog-eating  Frenchmen,  that  follow  fashions 
as  old  as  Adam.  When  Adam  delved  and  Eve 
span,  as  the  old  verse  says,  they  had  a  plough  and 
a  spindle,  and  that  thar  identical  plough  and  spindle 
air  still  in  use  here  among  these  here   French. 


A  DISCIPLE   OP   PROGRESS. 


23 


You  can't  make  em  use  auythin  else.  Why,  I've 
been  here  dozens  of  times,  and  I've  tried  to  get 
em  to  give  up  their  old-fashioned  ways,  and  be  up 
to  the  age.  I've  showed  em  our  way  of  doin 
things.  No  go.  Not  a  mite  of  use.  Might  as  , 
well  talk  to  a  stone  AvalL  They'll  never  get  out 
of  the  old  rut.  And  see  what  they're  doin  here  I 
Why,  only  look  around  you  !  Magdalen  Islands  ! 
Why,  this  locality  is  one  of  the  most  favored  on 
this  green  earth.  In  the  middle  of  this  gulf,  right 
in  the  track  of  ships,  it  is  in  a  position  to  enter 
upon  a  career  of  progress  that  might  make  this 
place  one  of  the  most  flourishing  in  the  world. 
They  might  control  the  whole  fish  trade ;  they 
might  originate  new  modes  of  fishing.  Why,  look 
at  me  1  I've  tried  to  get  em  to  start  factories, 
build  railroads,  steamboats,  common  schools,  hotels, 
newspapers,  electric  telegraphs,  and  other  con- 
comitants of  our  nineteenth  century  civilization. 
And  what's  the  result?  Why,  nothing.  I  might 
as  well  talk  to  the  wind.  Railroads  I  electric  tele- 
graphs !  Why,  you  might  as  well  ask  them  to 
build  a  bridge  to  the  moon  !  Well,  all  I  can  say  is, 
that  these  here  Magdalen  Islands  won't  ever  be 
any  thin  till  they  fall  in  with  the  sperrit  of  the  age. 
Them's  my  sentiments." 

"  Railroads  1 "  cried.  Bart.     "  Why,  what    could 
they  do  with  a  railroad  ?  " 

"  Do  ?  "  exclaimed  Ferguson.     "  Why,  develop 
their  resources,   promote    trade,   facilitate    inter- 


24 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


course,  and  keep  themselves   abreast   with    the 


>> 


age 

"  But  there  are  not  more  than  a  couple  of  thou- 
sand people  on  the  islands,"  said  Bart. 

"  Well,  what's  the  odds  ?  So  much  the  more 
reason  for  them  to  be  up  and  doin,"  retorted  Fer- 
guson, with  some  warmth.  "  They're  all  as  poor 
as  rats ;  and  a  railroad  is  the  only  thing  that  can 
save  them  from  eventooly  dyin  out."    ^'\  ivvurAj>\li. 

The  boys  looked  at  the  stranger  in  some  per- 
plexity, for  they  did  not  know  whether  he  could 
really  be  in  earnest  or  not.  But  from  Ferguson's 
face  and  manner  they  could  gather  nothing  what- 
ever. He  seemed  perfectly  serious,  and  altogether 
in  earnest.  ^    .  --i.  i 

"  Yes,  sir,"  he  repeated,  emphatically,  "  these 
here  Magdalen  Islands'll  never  be  wuth  anythin 
till  they  get  a  railroad.     Them's  my  sentiments." 

v^iii  jfariiw  fehei^^i  anvit^ir  eif^ 

mmjf  Oil  J-adt  fysu^heb  iimm-f^M. 

mm  oDttatv^iiJ  J8  lo  3lUf0  ^ 


•t[tyiq 


ST.   PAUL'S   ISLAND. 


'25 


the 

hou- 

nore 

Fer- 

poor 

can 

per- 
jould 
son's 
what- 
ether 

^hese 
^thin 

ts."  - 

M 


■J  1 1  - 


'iiCKh  'to  elqwoo  b  mdi  oiom  .ion  oie  (noiiijM  " 

©loia  oiii  iloura  o<i     V  Bf>bo*od;^  s'imiv/  ,lbW  >^ 
W^  b^):1i(>ioT  ^fuoh  fril.     oJo.  modi'ioi«06^*>r 
10OU  ^^5  iU  in'vodT^'     aVKniJS7r9inoa^diiwvae'^tfS 
^  W6w;  Acquaintance.  —  The  Islands  of  the  Sea.  — *' 
Makiiig  Friends. —  The  Natives.  — A  Festival.  ^" 
Efforts  at  Conversation  in  an  unknown  Tongue, 
—  Corbefs  Baby  Talk. — Experiments  of  Bart  and 
Tim.  —  Pat  comes  to  Grief.  —  Overthrow  of  the 
Ff-ench.  —  Arrival  of  the  Skipper  on  the  Scene. 


—  He  means  Business.     ^.n-i^<^_  »--u 


Kjr  t^^v,'  %.^ 


^frilNDING  that  their  new  acquaintance  was  so 

IB     very  friendly,  and  communicative,   and   all 

iC"      that,  the  boys  thought  that  it  would  be  a 

good  thing  to  find  out  from   him  something  about 

jthe  various  islands  which  they  proposed  visiting. 

Ferguson  declared  that  he  knew  as  much  about 

[the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  as  any  man  living,  and 

[could  tell  them  all  they  wanted  to  know. 

"  What  sort  of  a  place  is  St.  Paul's  Island," 
isked  Arthur. 

The  skipper  shook  his  head  in  silence. 

"  Is  St.  Pierre  worth  visiting  ?  " 

"  Well  —  scarcely,"  said  the  other. 

"  What  sort  of  a  place  is  Anticosti  ? "  asked 
►ruce. 


M 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


"  Well,  you'd  best  not  go  within  fifty  miles  of 

that  thar  island."   •    rnti   /ynn    viu;  nj    ,<it  Ho^a  a 

"  What  sort  of  a  place  is  Sable  Island  ?  "  asked 

Sart.       ^<v/    fifi    r\i     \i\imn    .in»»ri!i«'f ftiv/^-*-      »iff,\#^     4/,J«t» 

"  Sable  Island  1 "  exclaimed  the  skipper,  staring 
at  them  in  astonishment.        ,  /^Irtfn.j 

"  Yes,  Sable  Island."  f«i"fj(    iruji/nf 

"  You  mean  Cape  Sable  Island."    ;  iff:^i./v>  fvymfi 
"No;  we  mean  Sable  Island."    hio  t<ai';f;nKfrf^  ^ 
i:  The  skipper  looked  at  them  all  with  a  solemn 

face,     t'^'f^       U'l'V'/  h'tf'tWi"'        hifii       i\   '  i:-  .1.-^  i-j  :\       /'» r ,  f .-,  r#.r      -I'rrt 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  he,  "  as  lo  visiting  Sable 
Island,  all  Pve  got  to  say  is,  I  hope  you'll  never 
begin  to  try  it  on  Sable  Island.  Why,  Sable  Island's 
one  of  the  places  that  seafarin'  men  try  never  to 
visit,  and  pray  never  to  get  nearer  than  a  hundred 
miles  to.  Sable  Island  !  Boys,"  he  continued,  after 
a  pause,  "  don't  ever  speak  of  that  again ;  don't 
even  think  of  it.  Give  it  up  at  once  and  forever. 
I  only  hope  that  you  won't  be  brought  to  pay  a 
visit  there  in  spite  of  yourselves,  a  thing  which  I'm 
afraid  you're  very  likely  to  do  if  you  go  cruisin' 
about  in  an  old  tub  like  that  much  longer.  Not 
but  what  Sable  Island  mightn't  be  improved  — 
that  is,  if  the  inhabitants  only  had  any  enterprise, 
and  the  government  that  owns  it  was  alive  to  the 
wants  of  the  age." 

"  Inhabitants  I "  said  Bart ;  "  why,  there's  only 
the  keeper  and  his  family." 

The  skipper  waved  his  hand. 


SABLE  ISLAND. 


« 


i  «  Grant  all  that/'  said  he.  "  Very  well.  They're 
a  nucleus,  at  any  rate,  and  can  give  tone  and 
character  to  the  future  Sable  Islanders.  Now, 
what  your  government  ought  to  do  with  Sable 
Island  is  this.  They'd  ought  to  make  a  good 
breakwater,  first  and  foremost,  so  as  to  have  decent 
harbor  accommodation  for  passing  vessels.  Then 
they'd  ought  to  connect  it  with  the  main  land  with 
a  submarine  cable,  so  that  the  place  needn't  be 
quite  so  isolated,  and  have  regular  lines  of  steam- 
ers runnin'  backard  and  forard.  Well,  then  they 
ought  to  get  up  a  judicious  emigration  scheme,  and 
that  thar  island  would  begin  to  go  ahead  in  a 
style  that  would  make  joii  fairly  open  your  eyes. 
Why,  in  ten  years,  if  this  plan  was  carried  out, 
they'd  be  building  a  railroad,  —  a  thing  that  is 
needed  there  more  than  most  anywheres,  the  island 
bein  so  uncommon  long  and  narrow,  —  and  that 
bein  done,  why,  Sable  Island  would  begin  to  come 
abreast  of  the  nineteenth  century,  instead  of  hang- 
ing back  in  the  middle  ages,"  -      - 

After  some  further  conversation  of  a  similar  char- 
acter, the  skipper  proposed  to  show  the  boys  about 
the  country,  and  introduce  them  to  some  of  the 
"aristocracy."  JnijiKJi^itiii 

"  And  there,"  said  he,  "  is  one  of  them,  now.  It's 
the  priest  —  and  a  precious  fine  fellow  he  is,  any 
how,  and  no  mistake.  He  is  priest,  governor 
general,  magistrate,  constable,  policeman,  Sunday- 
school  teacher,   town   clerk,  schoolmaster,   news- 


28 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


paper,  lawyer,  doctor,  notary  public,  census  taker, 
and  fifty  other  things  all  rolled  into  ono.  He  is 
the  factotum  of  the  Magdalen  Islaiids.  They  come 
to  him  for  everything :  to  baj)tize  their  infants, 
to  marry  their  young  couples,  and  to  bury  their 
dead.  They  go  to  mass  on  Sundays,  and  on  week 
days  they  go  to  him  for  advice  and  assistance  in 
everything.  He  visits  the  sick,  and  administers 
medicine  as  doctor,  or  extreme  unction  as  priest. 
He  settles  all  their  quarrels  better  than  any  judge 
or  jury,  and  there  never  ain't  any  appeal  thought 
of  from  his  decision.  Now,  all  this  is  what  I  call 
a  species  of  despotism,  —  it's  one  man  power,  but 
it  suits  these  poor  benighted  frog-eatin  heathen,  — 
and,  besides,  it's  no  more  a  despotism  than  the 
father  of  a  family  exercis'^s.  It's  patriarchal  — 
that's  what  it  is.  It's  wonderful,  too,  how  much 
honor  the  young  people  hereabouts  pay  to  their 
fathers,  and  grandfathers,  and  elders  genrally. 
I  never  knowed  anythin  like  it  in  all  my  born 
days.  Well,  now,  boys,  mind  you,  all  this  is  goin 
to  be  upset.  Some  day  they'll  be  appointin  magis- 
trates here,  and  doctors  will  come,  and  lawyers ; 
then  this  little  community  will  all  be  sot  by  the 
ears,  and  —  and  they'll  enter  upon  a  career  of 
boundless  progress.  They'll  get  the  ballot-box, 
and  the  newspaper,  and  all  the  concomitants  of 
modern  civilization;  the  present  patriarchal  sys- 
tem'U  be  played  out,  and  the  spirit  of  the  age  will 
reign  and  rule  over  them." 


FATHER  LEBLANC, 


29 


By  the  time  the  skipper  had  given  utterance  to 
this,  they  had  approached  the  priest.  He  was  a 
mild,  veneral)le  man,  with  a  meek  face  and  a 
genial  smile.  He  spoke  English  very  well,  shook 
hands  with  all,  and  listened  to  the  skipper's  ex^ 
planations  about  their  present  visit. 

"  And  now,  boys,  I'll  leave  you  for  the  present," 
said  the  skipper,  "  to  the  care  of  Father  Leblanc, 
who  will  do  the  honors  of  the  island.  I've  got  to 
go  aboard  the  Fawn  to  fix  up  a  few  things.  We'll 
meet  again  in  the  course  of  the  day.'^     »  — 

With  these  words  he  went  down  to  the  beach. 

The  shabbiness  of  the  costume  of  the  boys  had 
already  excited  the  remarks  of  the  skipper,  but 
the  good  Father  Leblanc  soon  saw  that  in  spite  of 
this  they  were  clever  and  intelligent.  to  t 

"  We  do  not  often  have,"  said  he,  "  at  this  place 
visitors  above  the  rank  of  fishermen,  and  we  have 
never  before  had  any  visitors  like  you.  I  can  as- 
sure you  a  welcome,  dear  boys,  from  all  the  good 
people  here.  There  is  to  be  a  fete  to-day  in  honor 
of  the  marriage  of  two  of  my  flock.  Would  you 
like  to  go  ?  If  so,  I  invite  you  most  cordially,  and 
assure  you  of  a  welcome." 

This  unexpected  invitation,  thus  kindly  given, 
was  accepted  with  undisguised  eagerness ;  and 
thereupon  the  boys  accompanied  the  priest,  who 
first  of  all  went  to  his  own  home,  where  he  oifered 
them  some  simple  refreshments.  The  priest's 
home  was  a  small  cottage  of  very  unpretending 


30 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


exterior,  and  very  similar  to  all  the  other  cottages  ; 
but  inside  there  were  marks  of  refined  taste  and 
Bcholarly  pursuits.  A  few  Latin  and  Greek  clas- 
Bics  were  on  a  small  book-shelf.  There  was  an  har- 
monium, with  some  volumes  of  sacred  music,  and 
here  and  there  were  some  volumes  which  were 
of  a  theological  character.  The  entertainment  of 
the  priest  consisted  of  some  coftee,  which  the  boys 
were  surprised  to  find,  and  which  they  afterwards 
unanimously  pronounced  to  be  "  perfectly  deli- 
cious," and  some  fresh  eggs,  with  immaculate  bread 
and  butter.  ...-,....., .u^ 

After  chatting  with  the  boys  for  about  an  hour, 
the  priest  announced  that  it  was  time  to  start,  as 
their  destination  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
island.  They  accordingly  set  out  at  once,  and 
walked  along  the  slope  of  a  hill.  There  was  no 
road,  but  only  a  footpath,  which  served  all  the  pur- 
poses of  the  Magdalen  Islanders,  in  spite  of  the 
skipper's  theories  about  a  railway.  On  the  way 
the  priest  entertained  them  with  stories  of  his  life 
on  these  secluded  islands,  of  the  storms  of  winter, 
of  the  ice  blockade,  of  the  perils  of  the  sea,  of  the 
vast  solitude  of  the  surrounding  gulf,  where  in 
winter  no  ship  ever  ventures.  Yet  in  spite  of  the 
loneliness,  he  affirmed  that  no  one  here  had  any 
sense  of  desolation,  for  it  seemed  to  all  of  the  inhab- 
itants, just  as  it  seems  to  the  inhabitants  of  other 
countries,  that  this  home  of  theirs  was  the  centre 
of  the  universe,  and  all  other  lands  strange,  and 
drear,  and  unattractive. 


A   FESTIVAL. 


31 


•  tAt  length  they  roaclied  their  destination.  It 
was  a  cottage  of  rather  hirgor  size  than  usual,  and 
it  seemed  as  if  the  whole  population  of  the  island 
had  gathered  here.  Tables  were  spread  in  the 
open  air,  and  a  barrel  of  cider  was  on  tap.  As  they 
drew  near  they  heard  the  sound  of  a  fiddle,  and 
saw  figures  moving  about  in  a  lively  dance.  Old 
men,  young  men,  women,  girls,  and  children  were 
all  laughing,  talking,  dancing,  or  playing.  It  was 
a  scene  full  of  a  curious  attractiveness,  and  exhib- 
ited in  a  striking  way  the  irrepressible  gayety  that 
characterizes  the  French  wherever  they  go.  ^ 

At  their  approach  the  laughter  and  the  dance 
ceased  for  a  time,  and  the  company  welcomed  the 
good  priest  with  smiles  and  kindly  words.  The 
boys  also  came  in  for  a  share  of  the  hospitable  wel- 
come, and  as  soon  as  the  priest  had  explained  who 
they  were,  they  were  at  once  received  as  most 
welcome  and  honored  guests.  Unfortunately  the 
boys  could  not  speak  a  word  of  French,  and  the 
people  could  not  speak  a  word  of  English,  so  that 
there  was  not  that  freedom  of  intercourse  between 
the  two  parties  which  might  have  been  desirable  ; 
but  the  priest  did  much  to  bring  about  this  inter- 
change of  feelings  by  acting  as  interpreter,  and  the 
boys  also  by  gestures  or  by  smiles  endeavored,  not 
without  some  success,  to  make  known  their  feel- 
ings for  themselves. 

The  boys  soon  distributed  themselves  about  at 
random,  and  the  good  people  never  ceased  to  pay 


rtfrrr  '. 


■  i. 


32 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


y*- 


delicate  little  attentions  to  them  by  offering  them 
coffee  or  cakes,  by  uttering  a  few  words  in  the 
hope  that  they  might  be  understood,  or,  if  words 
were  wanting,  they  took  refuge  in  smiles.  But 
words  were  not  wanting,  and  different  members  of 
the  party  made  violent  efforts  to  break  through  the 
restraints  which  a  foreign  language  imposed,  and 
express  their  feelings  more  directly,     jtv  -j  '  j?  ai*- 

Thus  Captain  Corbet,  who  had  accompanied 'the 
party,  finding  himself  hospitably  entertained  by  a 
sm'ling  old  Frenchman,  endeavored  to  make  known 
the  joy  of  his  heart.  -  'v-.^: 

"Coffee,''  said  he,  tapping  his  cup  and  grinning. 

"^'  Qui,  oui,"  said  the  Frenchman. 

*'  Coffee  dood —  pooty —  nicey  —  0,  velly  nicey' 
picey."     /  '  ...,,,■  ^i-.,,/i    ;  ,;  h:^v  '  ,- 

Captain  Corbet  evidently  was  falling  back  upon 
his  "  baby  talk,"  under  the  impression  that  it  would 
be  more  intelligible  to  a  foreigner.  But  this  for- 
eigner did  not  quite  understand  him.  He  only 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Cooky  —  cakey  —  nicey,"  continued  Captain 
Corbet,  in  an  amiable  tone.     "  All  dood —  all  nicey 

—  velly."       ^a>^:i.„    ..„...r  ,  .  i, .._■.;  ... 

And  he  again  paused  and  smiled,  r    r 

"  Plait-il  ?  "  said  the  Frenchman,  politely. 

"  Plate  ?  O,  no,  no  plate  for  me,  an  thank  you 
kindly  all  the  same." 

The  F.'-enchman  looked  at  him  in  a  bewildered 
way,  but  still  smiled. 


CONVERSATION  IN   AN  UNKNOWN  TONGUE.         S3 


em 

the 

rds 

But 

sof 

the 

and 

['the 
by  a 
10  wn 

ling. 
Qicey 


npon 
ould 
for- 
only 

iptain 
nicey 


k  you 
dered 


i.; 


«■  "  Vouley  vous  du  pain?  "  he  asked,  at  length. 
®  "  Pan  ?  "  said  Captain  Corbet ;  "  pan  ?  Course 
not.  What'd  I  do  with  a  pan  ?  —  but  thankin  you 
all  tlie  same,  course."  ^'"'     '^■"''  '^[ 

The  Frenchman  relapsed  into  silence.  ''''^  -J^'TO/t 
-  "  It  was  a  pooty  'ittle  tottage,"  said  Captain  CoiS 
bet,  resuming  his  baby  talk,  "  an  a  pooty  tompany, 
an  it  was  all  dood  —  pooty  —  nicey."  ^^^'^ '  "  ■^'  '^"*^. 
•*  But  the  Frenchman  didn't  understand  a  word, 
and  so  at  length  Captain  Corbet,  with  a  sigh,  gave 
up  the  attempt.  '"'''  *"^"* 

Meanwhile  the  others  were  making  similar  en- 
deavors. Tom  had  got  hold  of  a  French  boy  about 
his  own  age.      -  — "  _     \ 

"  Parley  vous  Francais,"  said  Tom,  solemnly. 

"  Qui,"  said  tlie  French  boy. 

^'  Oui,  moosoo,"  said  Tom. 

The  French  boy  smiled. 

"  Merci,  madame,"  continued  Tom,  boldly. 

The  boy  stared.  -  - 

"  Nong  —  tong  —  paw,"  proceeded  Tom,  in  a 
business-like  manner.    -       ' 

Of  this  the  boy  could  evidently  make  nothing. 

But  here  Tom  seemed  to  have  reached  the  limit 
of  his  knowledge  of  French,  and  the  conversation 
came  to  a  sudden  and  lamentable  end. 

Bart  liad  carried  on  for  some  time  an  interesting 
conversation  with  smiles  and  gestures,  when  he 
too  ventured  into  audible  words. 

^'  Bon  !  "  said  he,  in  an  impressive  manner  j  and 
3 


yj^]"iy>  )  itfHtqii'> 


' ;  u  1 1 1 


34 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


then  touching  the  breast  of  tlie  boy  to  whom  he 
was  speaking,  he  continued,  "You — tu — you  know 
—  you're  bon  ; "  then,  laying  his  hand  on  his  heart, 
he  said,  "  me  bon ; "  tlien,  pointing  to  the  cup, 
"  coffee  bon  ;  "  then  sweeping  his  hand  around,  he 
added,  "and  all  bon  —  house  bon,  company  bon, 
people  bon/'  .      .    - 

"  Ah,  oui,"  cried  the  boy.  "  Oui,  je  vous  com- 
prends.  Alia,  oui,  la  bonne  compagnie,  le  bon 
peuple  —  " 

"  Bon  company,  bon  people,  bon  company,  bon 
people,"  cried  Bart,  delighted  at  his  success  in  get- 
ting up  a  conversation ;  "  bon  coffee,  too  ;  I  tell 
you  what,  it's  the  bonnest  coffee  that  I've  tasted 
for  many  a  long  day."  ■  .  - 

At  this  the  boy  looked  blank. 

"Parley  vous  Francais?"  asked  Bart,  in  an 
anxious  tone. 

"  Oui,"  said  the  boy.  "^      ?, 

"  Well,  then,  I  don't,"  said  Bart ;  "  but  the  mo- 
ment I  get  home  I  intend  to  study  it."  ... 

And  at  this  stage  Bart's  conversation  broke 
down. 

Pat  chose  another  mode  of  accomplishing  the 
same  end.  Captain  Corbet  had  been  acting  on  the 
theory  that  foreigners  were  like  babies,  and  could 
understand  baby  talk,  Pat,  in  addition  to  this, 
acted  on  the  theory  that  they  were  deaf,  and  had 
to  be  addressed  accordingly.  So,  as  he  was  re- 
freshing himself  with  coffee  and  cakes,  he  drew  a 


PAT   C0ME3  TO   GRIEF. 


35 


little  nearer  to  the  old  woman  who  had  poured  it 
out  for  him,  and  bent  down  his  head.  The  old 
woman  was  at  that  moment  intent  upon  her  coffee- 
pot, and  did  not  notice  Pat.  Suddenly  Pat,  with 
his  mouth  close  to  her  ear,  shouted  out  with  a  per- 
fect yell, —       •         *    '    '  "  ;..  h>vr? 

"  Bully  for  you  I  and  thank  you  khs^dly, 
marm  !  " 

With  a  shriek  of  terror  the  startled  old  woman 
sprang  up  and  fell  backward.  The  chair  on  which 
she  had  been  sitting,  a  rather  rickety  affair,  gave 
way  and  went  down.  The  old  lady  fell  with  the 
chair  upon  the  ground,  and  lay  for  a  moment  mo- 
tionless. Pat,  horror-struck,  stood  confounded, 
and  stared  in  silence  at  the  ruin  he  had  wrought. 
The  bystanders,  alarmed  at  the  shout  and  shriek, 
crowded  around,  and  for  a  moment  there  was  uni- 
versal confusion.  Among  the  bystanders  was  the 
priest.  To  him  Pat  turned  in  his  despair,  and 
tried  to  explain.  The  priest  listened,  and  then 
went  to  see  about  the  old  woman.  Fortunately 
she  had  fallen  on  the  soft  turf,  and  was  not  at  all 
hurt.  She  was  soon  on  her  feet,  and  another  chair 
was  procured,  in  which  she  seated  herself.  The 
priest  then  explained  the  whole  affair.  Pat  was 
fully  forgiven,  and  the  harmony  of  the  festival 
was  perfectly  restored.  But  Pat's  laudable  efforts 
at  maintaining  a  conversation  had  received  so  se- 
vere a  check  that  he  did  not  open  his  mouth  for 
the  rest  of  the  day. 


36 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


The  festival  went  on.  Fun  and  hilarity  pre- 
vailed all  around.  The  dancing  grew  more  and 
more  vigorous.  At  length  the  contagion  spread  to 
the  elder  ones  of  the  party,  and  the  boys  were  as- 
tonished to  see  old  men  stepping  forth  to  skip  and 
dance  about  the  green ;  then  old  women  came  for- 
ward to  take  a  part,  until,  at  length,  all  were  dan- 
cing. The  boys  stood  as  spectators,  until  at  length 
Bart  determined  to  throw  himself  into  the  spirit 
of  the  scene.  He  therefore  found  a  partner,  and 
plunged  into  the  dance.  The  others  followed. 
Captain  Corbet  alone  remained,  seated  near  a  table, 
viewing  the  scene  with  his  usual  benevolent  glance. 

In  the  midst  of  this  festive  sc^ne  the  skipper 
approached.  He  walked  with  rapid  steps,  and, 
Avitliout  hesitating  an  instant,  seized  a  partner  and 
filing  himself,  with  all  the  energy  of  his  race,  into 
the  mazy  dance. 

"  I  don't  often  dance,  boys,"  he  remarked,  after- 
wards, "  but  when  I  do,  I  mean  business."  --   t,*vt. 

It  was  evident  that  on  this  occasion  the  skipper 
did  mean  business.  He  danced  more  vigorously 
than  any.  He  jumped  higher  ;  he  whirled  his  part- 
ner round  faster ;  he  danced  with  more  partners 
than  any  other,  for  he  went  through  the  whole  as- 
semblage, and  led  out  every  female  there,  from  the 
oldest  woman  down  to  the  smallest  girl. 

Most  of  the  time  he  chatted  volubly,  and  flung 
out  remarks  which  excited  roars  of  laughter.  He 
won  all  hearts.     He  was,  in  fact,  an  immense  sue- 


THE  SKIPPER. 


37 


■T* 


le  as- 
the 

|flung 
He 


cess.  The  boys  wondered,  for  they  had  not  ima- 
gined that  he  could  speak  French.  ,.    ,.    .,      i  .,;,y:v 

He  alluded  to  this  afterwards. 

"  We  have  a  natral  affinity  with  the  French 
down  in  New  England,"  said  he.  "  When  America 
was  first  colonized,  our  forefathers  had  to  fight  the 
French  all  the  time.  The  two  races  were  thus 
brought  into  connection.  Our  forefathers  thus 
caught  from  the  French  that  nasal  twang  with 
which  the  uneducated  still  speak  English.  You 
find  that  twang  among  the  uneducated  classes  all 
over  the  British  proviiices  and  New  England.  It's 
Francli  —  that's  what  it  is.  Corbet  and  I  are  both 
uneducated  men,  and  we  both  speak  English  with 
the  French  twang.  I  speak  French  first  rate  ;  and 
Corbet  there  could  speak  it  first  rate  also,  if  he 
only  knew  the  language  perfectly." 

These  remarks  the  boys  did  not  quite  know  how 
to  take.  The  skipper  seemed  to  have  a  bantering 
way  with  him,  and  spoke  so  oddly  that  it  was  im- 
possible for  them  to  make  out  half  of  the  time 
whether  he  was  in  earnest  or  only  in  jest. 


Mlf 


;:'  f.y:>h\:r- 


v^'f^^v^V   rsin  }f'<i  ;.;ip  ,:■ 


sue- 


38 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


(i 


-■  ■  'i. 


,i'' 


'■       '',.!     ■),v* 


.f  ,«■ 


xvy:>'',)i 


I,     7-;    /■ 


■•; '  f ;; 


III. 


Friendly  Advice  and  dismal  Forebodings.  —  Once 
more  uj^on  the  Waters,  yet  once  more.  —  Due 
North.  —  A  Calm.  —  The  Calm  continues.  —  A 
terrible  Disclosure.  —  Despair  of  Corbet.  —  Solo- 

•  mon  finds  his  Occupation  gone.  —  Taking  Stock. 

*  — Short  Allowance, 


V* 


'NOTHER  day  was  passed  very  pleasantly 
at  the  Magdalen  Islands,  and  then  the 
boys  concluded  that  they  had  seen  about 
all  that  there  was  to  be  seen  in  this  place.  As  the 
question  where  next  to  go  arose,  they  concluded 
to  ask  the  skipper. 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  he,  "  in  the  first  place,  let  me 
ask  you  if  you've  ever  heard  of  Anticosti  ?  "  -  '«> 
"Of  course  we  have,"  said  Bart.  '  '  -"^  • 
"  Well,  don't  go  there ;  don't  go  near  it ;  don't 
go  within  fifty  mile  of  it ;  don't  speak  of  it ;  don't 
think  of  it;  and  don't  dream  of  it.  It's  a  place  of 
horror,  a  howling  wilderness,  the  abomination  of 
desolation,  a  haunted  island,  a  graveyard  of  unfor- 
tunate  sailors.     Its   shores   are   lined   with   their 


FRIENDLY   ADVICE. 


39 


.■U: 


me 


bones.  Don't  you  go  and  add  your  young  bones 
to  the  lot.     You  can  do  far  better  with  them." 

"Well,  where  do  you  advise  us  to  go?"  asked 
Arthur.    • 

The  skipper  thought  for  a  few  moments  without 
answering. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "you  know  Sable  Island." 

"Yes,"  said  Bart,  in  some  surprise. 

"Well,"  said  the  skipper,  impressively,  "don't 
go  there ;  doa't  go  within  a  hundred  miles  of  it ; 
don't  speak  of  it ;  don't  think  of  it ;  don't  dream 
of  it." 

"  But  you've  said  all  that  to  us  before,"  said 
Bruce.  ^'  We  want  to  know  where  wo  are  to  go, 
not  where  we  are  not  to  go." 

"  Well,"  said  the  skipper,  "  I  am  aware  that  I've 
said  all  this  before,  and  I  say  it  a  second  time,  de- 
liberately, for  the  simple  purpose  of  impressing  it 
upon  your  minds.  There's  nothin  like  repetition 
to  impress  a  thing  on  the  memory ;  and  so,  if  you 
ever  come  to  grief  on  Anticosti,  or  on  Sable  Island, 
you'll  remember  my  warnin,  and  you'll  never  feel 
like  blamin  me." 

"But  where  ought  we  to  go?"  asked  Bruce. 

"  Well,  that's  the  next  point.  Now,  I've  been 
thiukin'  all  about  it,  and  to  my  mind  there  ain't 
any  place  in  all  this  here  region  t\\^^t  comes  up  to 
the  Bay  of  Islands,  Newfoundland." 

"  The  Bay  of  Islands  ?  " 

"Yes,  the    Bay  of  Islands,  on   the  west   coast 


s 


40  PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


■i,j» 


of  Newfonndland.  It's  a  groat  place.  IVe  been 
there  over  and  over,  and  I  know  it  like  a  book. 
Thousands  of  vessels  go  there  every  season.  It's 
one  of  the  best  harbors  in  the  gulf.  It's  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  places  in  the  world.  The  air  is 
bracing,  the  climate  salubrious,  the  scenery  invit- 
ing; and  it  only  needs  a  first-class  hotel  with  all 
the  modern  improvements  in  order  to  become  a 
number  one  waterin-place.  Yes,  by  ginger  !"  he  con- 
tinued, "  you  plant  a  first-class  hotel  there,  and  let 
that  there  place  become  known,  and  there's  nothin 
to  prevent  it  from  goin  ahead  of  Long  Branch  or 
Newport,  or  any  other  place  you  can  mention. 
,  "Then,"  continued  the  skipper,  "  if  you  wanted 
to  go  any  further,  you  might  go  up  the  Straits  of 
Belle  Isle,  and  round  Newfoundland.  If  you  had 
time,  you  might  take  a  run  over  to  Greenland ;  it's 
gettin  to  be  quite  21  place,  a  fashionable  resort  in 
the  hot  summer ;  but  perhaps  you  won't  have  time, 
and  won't  care  about  doin  more  than  cruisin  round 
Newfoundland,  and  then  home."  .    ,    ....,,...  , 

Once  more  the  skipper's  tone  seemed  somewhat 
extravagant  to  the   boys,  and  they  did  not  know  ' 
how  to  take  it.  ^r\i,.'>^:i  ,>\  ti;>vi!.t:;-;  ^rvKd,  -^n'r' 

"  0,  well,"  said  Bart,  "  we  don't  want  to  go  to 
Greenland  this  season.  When  we  do  go  there,? 
we  shall  probably  go  for  good ;  but  just  now,  we 
want  to  confine  ourselves  to  the  gulf.  If  you  can 
really  recommend  the  Bay  of  Islands,  perhaps  we 
had  better  go  there ;  that  is,"  added  Bart,  "  unless 
you  think  we  had  better  go  to  Iceland." 


DISMAL   FOREBODINGS. 


41 


>Jv 


to 
ere, 
we 
can 

we 
les3 


1 


The  skipper  looked  at  Bart  for  a  few  moments  in 

silence,  and   a   smile    gradually   passed   over   his 
face     Af;j»  li'jr'  ■■/ 'I •■>■.;•■- 1  ^v'i.MMi  ■  i !■  •  '.■■}  j'-.'/'i'/  hi  >:  •• 

"  Well,"  said  he,  after  a  pause,  "  that's  the  iden- 
tical place  that  I  wis  just  going  to  recommend, 
when  you  took  the  words  out  of  my  mouth.  The 
fact  is,  boys,  with  that  old  tub  of  yours  you 
might  as  well  go  to  Iceland  as  anywhere  else. 
Every  time  I  look  at  it  I  am  thunderstruck.  What 
were  your  fathers  and  mothers  thinkin  of  when 
they  let  you  come  away  up  here  in  such  an  old 
rattle-trap  ?  —  an  old  tub  that  isn't  worth  being  con- 
demned !  Do  you  think  you'll  ever  get  home 
again  in  her?  Not  you.  Do  you  know  where  that 
old  tub's  bound  to  go  before  the  end  of  this  sea- 
son? Down  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea;  and  if  you 
don't  go  in  her,  you  may  bless  your  lucky  stars. 
I  only  wish  1  wasn't  otherwise  engaged.  I'd  make 
you  all  clear  out  at  once,  and  come  aboard  the 
Fawn." 

Captain  Corbet  was  not  present,  and  did  not 
hear  these  insulting  reflections  upon  his  beloved 
Antelope,  and  therefore  was  spared  the  pain  which 
they  would  have  caused  to  his  aged  bosom ;  but 
the  boys  were  not  the  ones  to  listen  to  such  insin- 
uations in  silence.  The  Antelope  was  dear  to  them 
from  past  associations,  and  they  all  began  at  once 
to  vindicate  her  character.  They  talked  long  and 
eloquently  about  her.  They  spoke  of  her  speed, 
soundness,  and  beauty.  They  told  of  her  perform- 
ances thus  far. 


42 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


At  all  of  which  the  skipper  only  grinned.  ,  4>  r^ijrj 

"  Mark  my  words,  bo3's,''  said  he ;  '*  that  there 
tiib  is  goin  to  the  bottom."  <  i .» 

"  Well,  if  she  does,  she'll  get  up  again,"  said  - 
Bart. 

The  opinions  of  the  two  parties  were  so  different 
that  any  further  debate  was  useless.  The  skipper 
believed  that  they  were  bound  for  the  bottom  of 
the  sea ;  the  boys  on  the  contrary  had  faith  in  the 
Antelope.  The  end  of  it  all  was,  that  they  con- 
cluded to  take  the  skipper's  advice  in  part,  and  - 
sail  for  the  Bay  of  Islands.  This  place  was  one 
which  they  all  were  desirous  of  visiting,  and  they 
thought  that  when  they  had  gone  that  fir,  they 
could  then  decide  best  where  next  to  go. 

They  were  to  leave  the  next  morning.  That 
evening  they  took  leave  of  the  friendly  skipper. 

''  Boys,"  said  he,  "  I'm  afraid  we'll  never  meet 
again ;  but  if  you  do  get  back  safe  from  this  per-  ^ 
ilous  adventure  of  yours,  and  if  any  of  you  ever 
happen  to  be  at  Gloucester,  Massachusetts,  I  do 
wish  you'd  look  me  up,  ar.i  let  me  know.  I'd  give 
anything  to  see  any  one  of  you  again." 

With  these  words  the  skipper  shook  hands  with 
each  one  of  them  heartily,  and  so  took  his  leave. 

Early  on  the  following  morning  the  Antelope 
spread  her  sails  and  began  once  more  to  traverse 
the  seas,  heading  towards  the  north.  The  wind 
was  fair,  and  all  that  day  they  moved  farther  and 
farther  away  from  the  Magdalen  Islands,  until  at 


ONCE   MORE   UPON   THE   WATERS. 


43 


length  towards  evening  they  were  lost  to  view  in 
distance  and  darkness.  ■■■-*, 

On  the  next  day  they  were  all  up  early.  They 
saw  all  around  a  boundless  expanse  of  water.  No 
land  was  anywhere  visible,  and  not  a  sail  was  in 
sight.  This  was  a  novelty  to  the  boys,  for  never 
yet  had  any  of  them  had  this  experience  in  the 
Antelope.  Some  of  them  had  been  out  of  sight 
of  land,  it  is  true ;  but  then  they  were  in  large 
ships,  or  ocean  steamers.  Being  in  such  a  situa- 
tion in  a  craft  like  the  Antelope,  was  a  far  different 
thing.  Yet  none  of  them  felt  anything  like  anxiety, 
nor  had  tiie  slurs  of  the  skipper  produced  any 
effect  upon  their  affectionate  trust  in  their  gallant 
bark,  and  in  their  beloved  Captain  Corbet.    ^        ),;; 

Certainly  on  the  present  occasion  there  was  i  ttle 
enough  cause  for  anxiety  about  the  sea-worthiness 
of  the  Antelope.  The  sea  was  as  smooth  as  a 
mirror,  and  its  glassy  surface  extended  far  and 
wide  around  them.  There  was  not  a  breath  of  air 
stirring.  They  learned  from  Wade  that  the  wind 
had  gradually  died  away  between  sundown  and 
midnight,  until  it  had  ceased  altogether.  They 
were  now  in  a  dead  calm.       •'     m      //  ..  .-u 

None  of  the  party  was  very  well  pleased  at 
this.  They  all  wished  to  be  moving.  They 
disliked  calms,  and  would  have  much  preferred 
a  moderate  gale  of  wind.  The  Antelope,  how- 
ever, was  here,  and  there  was  no  help  for  it. 
She  was  far  away  from  land.  She  lay  gently  rising 


44 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


and  falling,  as  the  long  ocean  rollers  raised  her  up 
and  let  her  down ;  and  her  sails  flapped  idly  in  the 
still  air,  at  the  motion  of  the  vessel.  The  boys  did 
the  best  they  could  under  the  circumstances,  and 
tried  to  pass  away  the  time  in  various  ways. 
Some  of  them  tried  to  sleep ;  others  extemporized 
a  checker-board,  and  played  till  they  were  tired  ; 
others  walked  up  and  down,  or  lounged  about. 
All  of  them,  however,  found  their  chief  emi)loy- 
ment  in  one  occupation,  and  that  was  eating.  Ever 
since  they  had  been  on  the  water  their  appetites 
had  been  sharpened ;  and  now  that  they  had  noth- 
ing else  to  do,  the  occupation  of  eating  became  more 
important  and  engrossing.  To  prolong  the  repast 
while  it  was  before  them  as  far  as  possible,  and 
then  to  anticipate  the  next,  were  important  aids 
towards  killing  the  time. 

All  that  day  the  calm  continued  :  on  going  to  bed 
that  night,  the  boys  confidently  looked  forward  to 
a  change  of  weather  on  the  following  day.  The 
night  was  calm.  The  following  day  came.  They 
were  all  up  betimes.  To  their  deep  disappoint- 
ment they  found  no  change  whatever.  There  was 
the  same  calm,  the  same  unruffled  sea,  the  same 
cloudless  sky.  Not  a  sail  was  visible  anywhere, 
and  of  course  there  was  no  sign  of  land  on  any 
quarter. 

The  second  day  the  time  hung  more  heavily  on 
their  hands.  Some  of  them  proposed  fishing;  but 
they  had  no  hooks,  and  moreover  no  bait.     Pat 


A   CALM. 


45 


|ily  on 
but 
Pat 


proposed  fiishioning  a  spiko  into  a  hook,  fasteninp^ 
it  on  a  line,  and  fisliing  for  HJiarks,  and  worked  all 
day  at  a  rusty  spike  for  this  purpose.  Unfortu- 
nately, he  could  not  get  it  sharp  enough,  and  so 
he  had  at  length  to  give  it  up. 

Captain  Corhet  was  perhaps  the  mc  t  impatient 
of  all ;  and  this  seemed  singular  to  the  boys,  who 
thus  far  had  known  him  only  as  the  most  patient 
and  the  most  enduring  of  men.  .  ■    .'         \Vi. 

On  this  occasion,  however,  his  patience  seemed 
to  have  departed.  He  fidgeted  about  incessantly. 
He  ke[)t  watching  the' sea,  the  sky,  and  the  hori- 
zon, and  occupied  himself  for  hours  in  all  the  vari- 
ous wa^'S  common  among  seamen,  who  indulge  in 
the  superstitious  practice  of  trying  to  "  raise  the 
wind."  One  mode  consisted  in  standing  in  one 
position  motionless  for  half  an  hour  or  more,  watch- 
ing the  horizon,  and  whistling:  another  was  a  pe- 
culiar snapping  of  the  fingers ;  another  was  the 
burning  of  some  hairs  pulled  from  his  own  vener- 
able head.  These  and  other  similar  acts  excited 
intense  interest  among  the  boys,  and  helped  to 
make  the  time  pass  less  slowly.  Unfortunately,  not 
one  of  these  laudable  efforts  was  successful,  and 
the  obstinate  wind  refused  to  be  "  raised." 

That  day  the  boys  detected  something  in  their 
meals  which  seemed  like  a  decline  of  skill  on  the 
part  of  Solomon.  There  was  a  frilling  off  both  in 
the  quantity  and  in  the  quality  of  the  eatables. 
Only  four  potatoes  graced  the  festive  board,  and  a 


46 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


piece  of  corned  beef  that  was  quite  inadequate  to 
their  wants.  The  tea  was  weak^  and  there  was 
very  little  sugar.  There  was  only  a  small  supply 
of  butter,  and  this  butter  seemed  rather  unpleas- 
antly dirty.  M     *    --^  :  '     ,,     ':-;-   :  /.-^  ,'t' 

On  the  following  day  all  this  was  explained. 
Plurrying  up  on  deck  at  early  dawn,  th(^v  saw  tlie 
scene  unchanged.  Above  was  the  cloudless  sky, 
all  around  the  glassy  sea,  and  before  them  stood 
Captain  Corbet,  the  picture  of  despair.  By  his 
side  stood  Solomon,  with  his  hands  clasped  to- 
gether, and  his  liead  hanging  down,    m  ,  .--'.  a-uI 

"  It's  all  my  fault,  boys,"  said  Captain  Corbet, 
witli  something  like  a  groan.  "I  was  to  blame. 
But  I  declare,  I  clean  forgot.  And  yet  what  busi- 
ness had  I  to  forget?  my  fustest  and  highest  duty 
bein  to  remember.     And  here  we  air  !  "       .    ^ 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Tom,  who, 
like  all  the  rest  was  struck  by  Captain  Corbet's  de- 
spairing attitude  and  words.     ^^  .   t*.^^     ..  .5  '■,%. 

"  I  won't  hide  it  any  longer,  boys,"  said  he  ;  "  it's 
this  calm.  I  didn't  calculate  on  bein  becalmed. 
I  thought  only  of  head  winds,  and  then  w^e  could 
hev  pub  back  easy;  but  a  calm!  Why,  what  can 
you  do  ?  " 

*' Hide  it?"  Cried  Bruce.  ^' Hide  what?  What 
do  you  mean  by  this  ?  What  would  you  want  to 
put  back  for?"  f- 

Captain  Corbet  groaned.  ^ 

"  For  —  for  pro  —  provisions,  dear  boys,"  he  said 
mournfally,  and  with  an  effort. 


A   TERRIBLE   DISCLOSURE.  ", 


47 


Baid 


"  Provisions  !  "  repeated  Bruce,  and  looked  very 
blank  indeed.  All  the  boys  exchanged  glances, 
which  were  full  of  unutterable  things.  There  was 
silence  for  some  time. ->    ;    >:  -  ,     th^v.^   -- 

Tom  was  the  first  to  break  it.  i    -f^ii;^ 

"  Well,  what  have  we?"  he  asked,  in  his  usual 
cheery  voice.  "  Come  captain,  tell  us  what  there  is 
in  the  larder." 

**  Ask  Solomon,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  mourn- 
fully. 

^'  Well,  Solomon,  tell  us  the  worst,"  said  Tom. 

But  Solomon  would  not  or  could  not  speak.  He 
raised  his  head,  looked  wildly  around,  and  then 
hurried  away.  '    '         .    .        . 

Captain  Corbet  looked  after  him,  and  heaved  a 
heavy  sigh. 

"  Wal,  boys,"  said  he,  "the  fact  is,  Solomon  and 
me,  we've  been  talkin  it  all  over.  You  see,  he  con- 
siders himself  cook,  and  cook  only,  and  looks  to 
me  for  the  material.  It's  all  my  fault.  I  forgot. 
I  thought  there  was  lots  till  yesterday  niornin. 
Then  Solomon  told  me  how  it  was.  I'd  ort  to  have 
laid  in  a  supply  before  leavin  Bay  do  Chaleur ;  but 
as  I  said,  I  forgot.  And  as  for  Solomon,  why,  he's 
been  calmly  a  continooin  of  his  cookery,  same  as  if 
he  was  chief  cook  of  a  fust-class  hotel,  and  all  the 
time  he  was  in  a  becalmed  schewner.  He  told  me 
all  about  it  yesterday  mornin ;  but  I  says,  ^  Don't 
tell  the  boys ;  mebbe  the  wind'll  change,  and  I'll 
sail  for  the  nighest  port.^     So  he  didn't,  except  so 


48  PICKED   UP   ADRIFT.  " 

far  as  you  might  have  guessed,  from  the  meals 
which  he  served  np;  pooty  slim  they  were  too; 
but  he  did  his  best.'' 

*'  Well,"  said  Tom,  with  unaltered  self-posses- 
sion, "  it  would  have  been  better  for  us  to  have 
known  this  yesterday  morning ;  but  that  can't  be 
helped.     So  we  have  no  more  provisions?" 

"  Precious  little/'  said  Captain  Corbet,  mourn- 
fullv. 

''  Have  we  any  ?  "  asked  Tom. 

"  Wal,"  said  Captain  Corbet, "  the  tea's  all  gone ; 
and  the  coffee,  and  all  the  potted  meats,  and  the 
apples,  and  the  taters,  and  the  turnips  and  car- 
rots, and  all  the  vegetables; ,  and  the  smoked  pro- 
visions, and  you  had  the  last  mite  of  corned  beef 
yesterday." 

"  But  what  is  there  left  ?  "  asked  Tom. 

''  Only  two  or  three  papers  of  corn  starch,"  said 
Captain  Corbet,  with  an  effort,  "  and,  I  believe,  a 
half  box  of  raisins,  and  a  little  rice."    ]      s "-  niwjafc 

"  And  nothing  else  ? "        '  '         '     '  -       '■ 

"  Not  a  hooter,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  despair- 
ingly. 

Tom  was  silent.  The  boys  all  looked  at  one 
another  with  anxious  faces,  and  then  began  to  talk 
over  the  situation. 

The  result  was,  that  first  of  all  they  made  Solo- 
mon produce  everytling  in  the  shape  of  eatables 
that  remained  on  board.  Solomon  ransacked  the 
vessel,  and  laid  everything  out  on  the  cabin  taljle. 


TAKING   STOCK. 


49 


It  was  not  a  very  large  supply,  and  the  display 
created  additional  uneasiness  in  the  minds  of  the 
boys.     '  •    ;  ' 

There  were,—  '^''^^    '^^'^''''  \^-^>;^  *^H^^- ' 

^j  ^     3  papers  of  corn  starch,  1  lb.  each. 
1  ham  bone. 


•'If. 


'"iV 


J  box  raisins. 
1  lb.  rice.     . 
6  biscuits. 
1  bowl  soup. 
4  carrots. 
1  potato. 

1  turnip. 

2  apples. 
1  oz.  tea. 


..v^.rt  ',;'V'  '}f4 


•  1  ;.•.       ■  ». -^'i    •  ,'  ^. 


.4 


u 


1  «•,■ 


f    ■'fi.-i    huh 


This  was  all  —  absolutely  all  on  board  the  Ante- 
lope for  the  sustenance  of  no  less  than  nine  human 
beings,  all  of  whom  were  blessed  with  excellent 
appetites.  '  Fortunately,  there  was  a  sufficient  sup- 
ply of  fresh  water,  so  that  there  was  no  trouble  on 
that  score.     * 

But  this  supply  of  food,  even  when  husbanded 
with  the  greatest  care,  could  scarcely  last  more 
tlian  one  day,  —  and  here  they  were  in  the  middle 
of  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  and  becalmed  ! 

The  circumstances  in  wiiich  thev  were,  excited 
the  deepest  anxiety  in  the  minds  of  all.  A  grave 
and  earnest  discussion  followed  as  to  the  best 
course  to  be   pursued.     First  of  all,  they  all  re- 


60  PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 

solved  to  deny  themselves  as  far  as  possible,  and 
make  their  supply  of  provisions  last  three  days. 
This  could  be  done  by  making  a  very  thin  soup 
out  of  the  ham  bone  with  the  potato  and  turnip. 
The  raisins  were  to  be  cooked  with  the  corn 
starch  and  rice,  in  one  general  mess,  which  was  to 
be  carefuliy  divided  day  by  day.  The  biscuits, 
carrots,  and  apples  were  to  be  reserved. 

After  this  they  decided  to  try  and  construct 
sometliing  like  oars,  and  propel  the  Antelope  in 
that  manner.  ''•j'm  j  ''•'<:'  c^  ■n'yjf 

The  provisions  were  divided  and  cooked  in  ac- 
cordance with  this  decision.  They  all  went  with- 
out breakfast,  for  they  had  decided  to  eat  but  one 
meal  per  day.  At  midday  they  partook  of  this  im- 
portant meal,  which  consumed  one  third  of  their 
whole  stock.  But  little  was  aflforded  out  of  that 
one  meal  for  each  individual,  and  each  one  felt  able 
to  consume  the  whole  repast,  instead  of  the  beg- 
garly ninth  part  which  fell  to  him.  Poor  Captain 
Corbet  refused  at  first  to  eat,  and  so  did  Solomon, 
for  each  reproached  himself  as  the  cause  of  the 
present  famine  ;  but  the  boys  put  a  stop  to  this 
by  refusing  also  to  eat,  and  thus  compelled  Solo- 
mon and  the  captain  to  take  the  allotted  nourish- 
ment. 

As  to  the  oars  or  sweeps,  the  plan  proved  a 
total  failure.  There  w^as  nothing  on  board  which 
could  be  used  for  that  purpose.  There  was  but 
one  small  oar  for  the   boat,  and  they  could  find 


SHOBT  ALLOWANCE. 


51 


m 


nothing  else  that  could  serve  for  an  oar  except 
the  spars  of  the  schooner,  and  they  were  not  quite 
prepared  to  resort  to  these.  Even  if  they  had 
done  so,  there  was  not  an  axe  or  a  hatchet  on 
board  with  which  to  fashion  them  into  the  requi- 
site shape.  There  was,  in  fact,  no  tool  larger  than 
a  pocket  knife,  except  perhaps  the  table  knives, 
and  they  were  too  dull. 

The  calm  continued. .    "  v  >it   ^uf^ 

Thus  the  first  day  of  their  famine  paSised. 
They  went  to  bed  hungry.  ^ 

They  awaked  famished,  and  found  the  calm  still 
continuing.  There  was  no  breakfast  for  them.  The 
long  hours  passed  slowly.  In  vain  Captain  Corbet 
whistled  for  a  wind.     The  wind  came  not. 

Dinner  was  served  at  midday.  Each  one  ate 
his  meagre  share."  Each  one  felt  that  this  repast 
only  tantalized  his  appetite,  rather  than  satisfied  it. 
Solomon  was  in  despair.  Captain  Corbet  heaped 
upon  himself  never-ending  reproaches.  Wade  sat 
stoHd  and  starving  on  the  deck.  The  boys  stared, 
with  hungry  eyes,  around  the  horizon, 
'f 'There  was  not  a  sign  of  land;  there  was  not  a 
sail  to  be  seen. 

So  the  second  day  passed  away. 


52  PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 

^*>^'/    if    ,|...,:C     jj.ijj     ;;i^;..Ifiiri:'»     I.:;-;;     Vi'f   ■)(> 

27ie  ^/uVc?  Z)ay.  —  A  strange  Sail.  —  Below  the 
Horizon.  —  Making  Signals.  —  No  Answer.  — 
Weary  Waiting.  —  Starvation  stares  them  in 
the  Face.  —  A  long  Day. — Hope  dying  out. — 
A  long  Discussion  upon  the  Situation.  —  The 
last  Meal.  — '■  Bruce  and  Bart  come  to  a  desperate 
Determination.  —  The  secret  liesolve.     <  o  •  •:!   u>vj 

►HE  third  day  came.  ^  '^  *  "  "  "  '''"^' 
The  boys  slept  soundly  during  the  night, 
and  were  up  early.  As  they  took  their 
first  look  all  around,  their  feelings  were  those 
of  deep  despondency ;  for  far  and  wide,  as  before, 
there  was  nothing  visible  but  the  smooth  sea  and 
the  cloudless  sky.  The  calm  continued,  and  all 
the  east  was  glowing  with  the  fiery  rays  of  the 
rising  sun. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  cry  from  Phil. 
"  A  ship  !     A  ship  I " 

"  Where  ?    Where  ?  "   asked  all  the  others. 
t  ►  "  There  !     There  !  "  cried  Phil,  in   intense    ex- 

citement, pointing   towards   the   east,  where    the 
fiery  sky  rose  over  the  glowing  water     Looking 


\) 


A  STRANGE  SAIL. 


53 


A 


■■^ov. 


ex- 
tlie 
:iiig 


in  tlie  direction  where  he  pointed,  they  all  saw  it 
plainly.  It  was  indeed  as  he  said.  It  was  a  ship, 
and  it  was  now  plainly  visible,  though  at  first,  on 
account  of  the  glare,  none  of  them  had  noticed  it 
but  Phil.  As  they  stood  and  looked  at  it,  every 
one  of  them  was  filled  with  such  deep  emotions 
of  joy  and  gratitude  that  not  a  word  was  said. 
Captain  Corbet  was  the  first  to  break  the  solemn 
silence. 

"  Wal,  I  declar,"  said  he,  "  it's  ben  so  dim  all 
along  that  I  didn't  notice  her ;  and  then  it  kine  o' 
got  so  bright  that  the  glare  dazzled  my  eyes ;  but 
there  she  is,  sure  enough ;  and  now  all  we've 
got  to  do  is  to  manage  to  get  into  communication 
with  her." 

The  boys  made  no  answer,  but  stood  looking  in 
silence.  Every  minute  the  glare  lessened ;  then  the 
sun  rose,  and  as  it  ascended  above  the  horizon,  the 
form  of  the  strange  ship  became  fully  revealed. 

It  was  a  ship  apparently  of  considerable  size ; 
but  her  hull  was  low  down  in  the  water,  and  only 
her  masts  were  visible.  She  seemed  to  lie  below 
the  horizon,  yet  was  as  plain  to  the  eye  as  though 
she  had  been  only  five  miles  away. 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  Bruce,  at  length,  "  I  don't 
know  how  you  feel,  but  for  my  part  I  feel  like 
taking  the  boat  and  going  off  to  her  at  once.  I'm 
sick  of  this  fare,  and  should  like  to  get  a  good 
breakfast.     What  do  you  think,  captain  ?  '^ 

Captain  Corbet  shook  his  Lead. 


64  PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 

"  Wal,"  said  he,  "  I  don't  exactly  seem  to  see 
my  way  clear  to  approvin  of  you  takin  a  row  for 
such  a  matter  as  twenty  mile  or  so.  We'd  never 
see  you  aeain."  ,    .  . 

"  Twenty  miles  ! "  exclaimed  Bruce.  "  Why,  it 
doesn't  look  like  more  than  two."    ,   . 

The  captam  smiled.        -  .    ^^ 

"  Why,  yon  can't  see  more  of  her  than  her  masts," 
replied  Captain  Corbet ;  "  and  a  ship  that's  down 
below  the  horizon  far  enough  to  hide  her  hull  is  a 
pooty  good  distance  off  —  twenty  mile,  at  least." 

At  this.  Bruce  was  silent.  Captain  Corbet's  re- 
marks were  unanswerable,  and  he  did  not  yet  feel 
prepared  to  row  so  great  a  distance  as  twenty 
miles.  

At  length  Bart  went  to  the  cabin,  and  returned 
with  a  spy-glass.  This  instrument  did  not  belong 
to  Captain  Corbet,  for  the  venerable  navigator  was 
strongly  prejudiced  agains?t  any  such  instruments, 
and  the  dimmer  his  eyes  j,'rew,  the  stronger  grew 
those  prejudices.  It  belonged,  in  fact,  to  Bruce, 
who  had  provided  himself  with  it  before  leaving 
home.  Armed  with  this,  Bart  took  a  long  look  at 
the  stranger.  Then  he  passed  the  glass  to  Bruce, 
and  then  all  the  boys,  in  turn,  took  a  look. 

The  strange  ship  already  appeared  surprisingly 
distinct  for  a  vessel  that  lay  below  the  horizon  ;  and 
1^  on  looking  at  her  through  the  glass,  this  distinct- 

ness became  more  startling.  Most  of  her  sails 
were  furled,  or  rather,  there  appeared  to  be  no 


MAKING   SIGNALS. 


55 


sails  at  all,  except  the  jib.  The  fore  and  main-top 
gallant  masts  wore  gone.  She  appeared,  indeed,  to 
have  encountered  a  storm,  in  which  she  had  lost 
her  spars,  and  the  present  calm  seemed  very  little 
in  accordance  with  her  appearance. 

The  comments  which  the  boys  made  upon  the 
appearance  of  the  stranger  excited  Captain  Cor- 
bet's curiosity  to  such  a  degree  that  he  surmounted 
his  prejudices,  and  condescended  to  look  through 
the  glass.  His  astonishment  at  the  result  was  due 
rather  to  his  own  ignorance  of  glasses  than  to  any- 
thing in  the  strange  ship;  but  after  he  had  become 
somewhat  more  familiar  with  the  instrument,  he 
began  to  pay  attention  to  the  object  of  his  scrutiny. 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  he,  after  a  long  and  careful 
search,  "  it  does  railly  look  jest  for  all  the  world  as 
if  that  thar  craft  has  been  in  a  storm,  and  lost  her 
spars  and  sails.  Perhaps  he's  in  distress.  Perhaps 
they're  watching  us  more  anxiously  than  Ave're 
watching  them." 

"  I  wonder  if  they  can  see  us  ?  "  said  Bruce. 

"  Pm  afraid  not,"  said  Bart,  we're  so  small." 
j^^ "  But  they've  got  a  glass." 

"  Yes,  and  they'd  be  sweeping  the  horizon  for 
help." 

"  I  wish  we  could  get  nearer." 

"  If  they're  hard  up,  they  might  row"  to  us." 

"  Is  it  any  use  to  signalize,  captain  ?  "  asked  Tom. 

"  Not  a  mite,"  said  Captain  Corbet.  "  You  can't 
signalize  to  a  vessel  so  far  away ;  at  least  I  never 
heard  of  such  a  thing.'^ 


56 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


*' 0,  well,  captain,"  objected  Brnce,  "you  see 
they  have  glasses.  We  could  see  any  signals  if 
they  were  to  hoist  them,  and  they  can  see  us  as 
well  as  we  can  i^ee  thera,  of  course."  V 

"  Wal,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  thoughtfully,  "per-  * 
haps  they  can;  and  if  so,  I'm  sure  I  don't  see  why  ^ 
we  mayn't  try.     So  you  may  as  well  hist  that  thar 
flag   o'   yourn,  boys.     It   can't  do    any  harm,   at  " 
any  rate.  i,  ;,!', jj^.  i>;»  -Hj/niji*  ••    i-m"  *>•  i»*»^| 

This  proposal  was  at  once  acted  upon.     Several 
of  the  boys  sprang  aft,  and  seizing  the  lines,  began  t 
to  lower  and  elevate,  incessantly,  the  proud,  yet  - 
somewiiat  battered  banner  of  the  B.  0.  W.  C.  —  the 
banner  whose  pictured  face  had  so  often  grinned 
at  tliem  through  man}^  an  adventure,  in  storm  and  ' 
in   calm.      It  gave  them  an   occupation ;    it   also 
served  to  excite  hope ;  and  so,  for  several  hours,   * 
the  flag  never  ceased  to  rise  and  fall,  —  the  boys  -i 
taking  turns  at  it,  and  one  relieving  the  other,  so  o 
as  to  keep  a  fresh  hand  always  at  the  work.     This  o 
continued  till  midday ;  but  at  length  they  gave  it  '^■ 
up  in  disgust. 

They  gave  it  up  because  it  had  not  produced 
the  slightest  result,  nor  excited  the  smallest  atten- 
tion ;  nor  had  the  circumstances  of  their  situation 
changed  in  any  respect  whatever.  Far  away  lay 
the  ship,  and  no  more  of  her  was  visible.  Nothing 
but  her  masts  appeared  to  their  eyes ;  not  a  parti- 
cle of  her  hull  could  be  seen.  She  seemed  some- 
what longer   now,  and   some   of  them  accounted 


rr» 


WEARY   WAITING. 


57 


for  this  on  the  ground  that  she  had  changed  her 
position  somewhat,  and  presented  her  broadside 
more  than  she  had  done  in  tlie  morning. 

The  weather  had  not  changed,  nor  were  there 
any  signs  whatever  of  a  change.  The  sky  was 
still  as  cloudless  as  ever,  and  not  the  Hiintest  fleck 
disturbed  the  expanse  of  1  !ue  th;it  hung  above 
them.  The  sea  was  unruffled,  nor  was  there  any 
puff  of  wind  to  agitate  its  surface. 

Early  in  the  morning,  when  that  strange  ship 
first  appeared,  they  had  hoped  that  a  wind  might 
arise  before  long  to  bring  them  together ;  or,  if  a 
wind  did  not  come,  that  at  least  the  currents  of  the 
sea  might  drift  them  into  closer  proximity ;  but 
now  there  began  to  arise  a  dark  fear  that,  instead 
of  drifting  nearer  together,  they  might  be  carried 
farther  asunder,  and  that  this  strange  ship,  which 
had  thus  been  borne  so  mysteriously  to  their  siglit 
during  the  darkness,  might,  on  the  advent  of  an- 
other day,  be  borne  as  mysteriously  out  of  their 
sight.  With  anxious  eyes  they  watched  her  form, 
testing  it  in  every  possible  way,  to  discover 
whether  the  intervening  space  had  increased  or  les- 
sened. Some  of  the  more  desponding  ones  were 
Iconvinced  that  they  were  drifting  asunder  ;  others, 
imore  hopeful,  maintained  tliat  they  wc^*^  nearer ; 
while  others,  again,  asserted  that  their  respective 
[positions  had  not  changed.  And,  in  fact,  it  w^as 
[evident  from  the  very  dispute  itself,  that  the 
)osition  of  the  two  vessels  had  not  very  greatly 
iltered. 


56 


PICKED   UP  APnTFT. 


Half  of  the  day  had  passed.  Another  half  re- 
mained;  and  after  that,  what?  Night  and  dark- 
ness', and  then  how  easily  could  they  drift  away 
from  this  stranger,  on  which  they  had  been  placing 
Buch  hopes  1  How  could  they  expect  that  the  rest 
of  the  day  would  bo  any  different  from  the  be- 
gmnuig  f     -f    '(vtMii  'Mji  -HIM]   •f'MitrT  tifft'i       •( 

Midday  had  come,  and  this  was  the  time  for 
their  single  daily  meal.  Moreover,  this  meal  was 
the  last,  —  the  last  of  the  three  portions  which 
they  had  set  aside  for  the  consumption  of  three 
days. 
.  Here  arose  a  solemn  question.  f 

Should  they  eat  up  all  of  this  last  portion?  or 
should  they  divide  it  into  two  parts,  reserving 
something  for  the  possible  emergency  of  the  next 
day?  The  moment  that  this  was  proposed,  they 
all  decided  at  once  to  reserve  something,  and  not  to 
devour  at  onc^e  all  that  was  left.  They  dete»'mined 
to  deny  themselves  for  this  day  for  the  security  of 
the  morrow ;  and,  hungry  though  tliey  were,  they 
preferred  to  have  a  meagre  repast  with  hope,  rather 
than  a  fuller  repast  with  despair.  And  so  their 
dinner  was  divided,  and  one  portion  set  aside 
for  the  next  day.  Meagre  indeed  and  inadequate 
was  this  repast  for  these  long-fasting  and  ravenous 
boys ;  but  there  was  no  help  for  it ;  and  as  yet 
they  had  not  quite  reached  the  w^orst.  They, 
therefore,  all  tried  most  strenuously  to  look  on  the 
bright  side,  make  the  best  of  their  situation,  and 


A   LONG   DAY. 


59 


cheer  one  another  with  remarks  of  a  hopeful  and 
encouraging  character. 

Dinner  was  prolonged  as  far  as  possible.  Then 
came  the  long  hours  of  the  afternoon.  Gradually 
the  efforts  of  the  boys  to  keep  up  their  own 
spirits  and  encourage  one  another  grew  feebler  and 
feebler.  From  time  to  time  they  made  faint  efforts 
to  find  occupation  for  themselves,  by  resorting  to 
the  flag,  and  actively  lowering  and  hoisting  it.  But 
.the  greater  part  of  the  time  was  spent  in  silently 
anr'  sadly  staring  at  the  strange  ship,  sometimes 
|.  through  the  glass,  whenever  they  could  get  the 
chance,  but  gonerall}^  without  it.  The  remarks 
grew  more  and  more  infrequent.  The  hoplessness 
of  their  situation  began  to  weigh  down  more  and 
more  the  spirits  of  each,  and  at  length  they,  one 
and  all,  relapsed  into  silence.  Solomon  kept  out 
of  sight.  Wade  sat,  as  usual,  stolid  and  passive. 
Captain  Corbet  stood  at  the  helm,  looking  in  all 
directions,  at  sea  and  sky,  with  an  unchanged  ex- 
pression of  heart-broken  melancholy.  So  the  time 
passed.       invDi!-  > 'S^^v^'Mif  fi '^ 

The  afternoon  was  far  worse  than  the  morning 

[in  every  respect.     The  moral  tone  of  the  whole 

party  had  declined,  and   the  whole  scene  around 

[presented  no  encouraging  feature.     In  the  morning 

they  had  been  inspired  by  the  hope  of  making  com- 

lunicatiohs  with  the  ship,  but  now  this  hoi)e  died 

mt  more  and  more  with  every  passing  moment. 

At  length  the  sun  went  down,  and   then   the 


60 


"^KED   UP  ADRIFT. 


shadows  of  the  gloomy  night  followed  slowly  and 
steadily.  One  by  one  the  shades  passed  over  the 
distant  ship,  until  at  last  they  stood  staring  at  the 
place  where  they  had  seen  her,  but  where  now 
they  could  see  nothing  but  darkness.  This  com- 
pleted their  despondency,  and  the  gloom  around 
was  commensurate  with  th^'  which  now  fell  darkly 
and  desparingly  over  the  soul  of  each.  ;i,  r  r^  ^^^  .,<rr 

For  a  long  time  they  wandered  up  and  down  the  . 
deck.     No  one  spoke.     Each  one  was  involved  in» 
his  own  gloomy  thoughts.     At  length,  one  by  one, 
they  retired  to  their  beds,  with  the  hope  of  for- 
getting their  cares  in  sleep.  ^j  ;/       ;, 

Bruce  and  Bart  were  left  on  the  deck  alone. 
All  the  rest  had  gone  below.  Around  all  was 
dark.  Both  the  boys  were  pacing  up  and  down 
restlessly  on  opposite  sides  of  the  deck,     -vo  .--fe 

At  length  Bruce  stopped. 

"  Bart,"  said  he,  in  a  low  voice,  "  is  that  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bart. 

"  Look  here.  I've  got  something  I  want  to  tell 
you." 

At  this  Bart  came  up  to  him  in  silence. 

"  I  don't  like  this  style  of  thing,"  said  Bruce. 

"  Why,  what  can  we  do  ?  " 

"  0,  never  mind.  I've  got  a  plan.  Do  you  think 
we  couldn't  have  been  doing  better  all  this  day 
than  staying  here,  moping  our  lives  out?" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  mean  the  very  thing  that  I  proposed 
this  morning.'* 


A  DISCUSSION. 


61 


v n    ',*.?{  ) 


«  What,  to  row  to  the  ship?  " 

"Yes.  ■  Why  not?" 

"  How  can  you  row  twenty  miles  ?  "    "  '' 

"  Stuff  find  nonsense.  She  can't  be  so  far. 
Captain  Corbet's  utterly  mistaken."       -      - 

"  Why,  she's  below  the  horizon."     '   *' '■'^^  ^' 

"  I  don't  care.  I  judge  from  the  looks  of  her. 
'Do  you  believe  you  can  see  so  plainly  a  ship  that's 
twenty  miles  away?  Why,  man  alive,  if  she  had  a 
•flag  up  you  could  almost  make  it  out.  For  my 
part,  I  feel  sure  that  she  isn't  over  five  miles  away 
at  the  very  farthest.  I  haven't  the  slightest  doubt 
about  it.  Why,  Bart,  you  and  I  are  both  accus- 
tomed enough  to  look  at  ships  out  on  the  water, 
and  you  can  see  for  yourself  that  it's  simply  im- 
possible that  this  one  can  be  so  far  away  as  twenty 
miles,  or  farther  away  than  I  say.  All  the  morn- 
ing I  couldn't  help  feeling  puzzled,  and  concluded 
that  it  might  be  something  in  the  atmosphere  that 
magnified  the  ship,  and  made  her  seem  so  near,  — 
like  the  mirage,  you  know ;  but,  afterwards,  I  gave 
that  up." 

"  Well,"  said  Bart,  after  some  thought,  "  I  don't 
,know  but  what  you're  about  right,  Bruce ;  but 
what  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"  Well,  we've  got  this  night  before  us,  and  if 
[the  wind  comes,  why,  of  course  we  are  all  right. 

tut  suppose  that  the  wind  doesn't  come,  and  we 
ind  ourselves  to-morrow  morning  as  we  did  this 

lorning,  with  that  ship  so  near.     Do  ycu  feel  able 


62 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


to  stand  here  all  day,  and  watch,  and  wait,  and  then 
sit  down  to  our  last  dinner?  I  don't.  «»/  sup- 
pose that  we  find  ourselves  gradually  drifting  away 
from  her.  No  —  I  can't  stand  it.  I've  made  up 
my  mind  to  row  out  to  her.  What  do  you  say  ? 
Will  you  come  with  me?"  ^<*^i  ^  -  "^ 

"  I  will,"  said  Bart,  firmly.  "  I'll  go,  even  if  it 
is  twenty  miles.  I'd  go  forty,  rather  than  live  this 
day  over  again.  Bat  when  do  you  propose  to  start?" 

"  I've  been  thinking  it  all  over,"  said  Bruce. 
"  My  plan  is  this  :  We'll  get  all  ready  to-night ;  that 
is,  have  the  oars  in  the  boat,  and  put  in  a  couple 
of  bottles  of  fresh  water;  besides,  we  can  take 
with  us  about  our  share  of  the  food  that  remains. 
Well,  to-morrow  morning,  if  the  calm  continues, 
the  moment  that  we  see  the  ship,  we'll  start,  and 
row  for  her.  Why,-  if  we  had  only  done  that  this 
morning,  by  this  time  we'd  have  been  on  board  of 
her,  with  a  boat  from  the  ship  back  here  with  pro- 
visions. Mind  you,  don't  think  of  twenty  miles; 
it  isn't  more  than  five  at  the  very  furthest — per- 
haps not  over  three  or  four.'' 

"  All  right.  I'll  go.  Do  you  intend  to  tell  any- 
body ?  " 

"  No ;  not  a  soul.  The  rest  of  the  fellows  would 
insist  on  going ;  and  it  will  be  better  for  us  two 
only  to  go ;  it  will  prevent  confusion,  and  be  the 
best  for  all  concerned." 

"  But  how  can  we  get  away  without  their  know- 
ing it  ?  " 


A  DISCUSSION. 


63 


"  0,  my  idea  is  to  push  off  from  the  schooner 
>efore  any  one  is  up,  and  then  watch  for  the  ap- 
)earance  of  the  ship  by  daylight.  The  moment 
^e  see  her  we  can  pull  for  her." 
"  That  seems  pretty  good,"  said  Bart,  thought- 
[fully ;  "  but  it  is  a  puzzle  to  me  how  that  ship  can 
[be  below  the  horizon,  and  yet  not  be  farther  off 
[than  five  miles.  She  certainly  did  not  look  farther 
away  than  that.  For  my  part,  I  don't  see  how  she 
Icould  be  less  than  ten  miles  at  the  least,  so  as  to 
(be  so  completely  hidden.  I  forget  the  rule  for  the 
[disappearance  of  a  ship  below  the  horizon ;  but 
there  is  something  in  this  one  that  I  can't  under- 
jtand.  Yet,  as  you  say,  judging  by  the  appearance 
)f  her  masts,  one  might  imagine  her  to  be  not 
nore  than  three  or  four  miles  off.  After  all,  it 
lust  be  mirage." 

"0,  no;  mirage  doesn't  last  all  day  long,  witb- 
)ut  the  slightest  change." 
"  You  don't  know.     It  may  in  this  case." 
"  Well,  of  course  I  don't  pretend  to  understand 
ill  the  freaks  of  the  atmosphere ;  but  all  that  I've 
>ver  read  about  the  mirage  shows  that  it  is  inces- 
jantly  shifting  and  changing,  and  never  lasts  over 
m  hour  or  so,  at  the  furthest.     Besides,  in  our 
latitudes,  these   peculiar   appearances   only   take 
)lace  in  the  morning." 
"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Bart.     "  At  any  rate, 
shall  be  prepared  lor  a  row  of  at  least  ten  miles." 
"  All  right.     Make  up  your  mind  to  that,  and  then 
^ou  won't  be  disappointed." 


64 


PICKED    UP   ADRIFT. 


"  Shall  you  go  to  bed  to-night,  Bruce  ?  " 

"  Of  course." 

''  But  how  can  you  wake?" 

"  0, 1  can  wake  whenever  I  like.    I'll  wake  you." 

«  All  right.     About  what  time  ?  " 

'^  0,  about  an  hour  before  daybreak ;  but  '^ome, 
let's  get  things  ready  now." 

The  boys  then  went  about  completing  their  prep- 
arations for  their  adventurous  journey.  These 
were  but  slight.  They  consisted  in  simply  putting 
on  board  the  boat,  which  was  floating  astern,  two 
bottles  of  fresh  water  and  a  little  of  the  provision 
which  had  been  put  aside  for  the  next  day. 

After  this  they  both  retired. 

On  the  following  morning,  at  about  three  o'clock^ 
Bruce  laid  his  hand  on  Bart's  forehead.  Bart 
"iwoke  instantly.  The  two  then  went  as  softly  as 
possible  on  deck.  No  one  was  there.  All  were 
below,  sound  asleep. 

Silently,  yet  quickly,  the  two  boys  got  into  the 
boat,  and  then  pushed  off.  There  were  two  oars 
in  the  boat.  Each  took  one,  and  then  began  to 
row.  But,  after  a  few  strokes,  Bruce  took  the  oar 
from  Bart,  for  the  boat  was  too  small  for  two  oars- 
men. So  Bruce  pulled  very  silently  out  into  the 
darkness  over  the  water,  in  the  direction  which  they 
supposed  would  lead  towards  the  strange  ship. 

After  rowing  about  a  hundred  yards  Bruce 
stopped.  Both  boys  now  waited  patiently  till  it 
should  become  light  enough  for  tliem  to  see  the 
ship. 


DAYBREAK. 


65 


■••    w  \ 


■0'',T^!'J    [^-^^ 


i,.tyjir//  f)ov  ^»s;''  ^^iV; 

^  /s/ 1.' ;  1.    ■'■»''  '■     ■        -  •   •  • 


>ayhreah  —  Startling  Discovery.  —  The  Boat  gone, 

—  Where  are  Bruce  and  Bart?  —  Dismay. — 
The  long  Row.  —  Tlie  distant  Ship.  —  Below  the 
Horizon.  —  Deep  in  the  Water.  —  The  shattered 
Sails.—  Waterlogged !  — Boarding  the  Stranger, 

—  Discoveries  of  a  Kind  which  are  at  once  excit- 
ing and  pleasing. 


LI  .     •       I     '.. 


:fl!V/l.'!i'>^    '>; 


>TTH  the  break  of  day  the  boya  were  all  on 
deck.  Their  first  impulse  was  to  take  a 
look  around.  They  saw  the  reddening 
istern  sky  and  the  smooth  water  all  around  them, 
id  their  hearts  sank  within  them  as  they  per- 
sived  that  the  wearisome  calm  still  continued, 
ley  noticed,  however,  that  the  ship  was  still 
fsible,  and  this  was  some  consolation.  It  seemed 
)w  a  little  nearer  than  the  day  before. 
*'  Captain,''  said  Tom,  "  we've  got  nearer  to  her : 
m't  you  think  so  ?  " 

The  cap'ain  made  no  reply.  Tom  looked  up, 
id  repeated  his  remark.  As  he  looked  up,  he 
^w  Captain  Corbet  standing  astern  with  a  puzzled 
5 


66 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


expression,  and  looking  down  into  the  water  and 
all  around.       , 

«  What's  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Tom. 

"  The  boat,"  said  Captain  Corbet. 

"  What  of  her  ?  " 

"  Some  one's  been  and  stole  her,  or  else  she's 
gone  to  the  bottom,  only  the  rope's  gone,  too." 

«  What !  the  boat !  "  cried  Tom.  "  You  don't 
mean  to  say  the  boat's  gone  ! " 

The  other  boys  were  startled  at  this,  and  hurried 
aft  to  look  for  themselves.  -     ^ 

"  I'm  glad  I  wasn't  in  her  this  time,  at  any  rate," 
said  Tom,  and  then  added  in  a  melancholy  voice, 
"  but  I  suppose  it  wouldn't  make  much  difference 


}f 


now. 

The  boys  stood  in  silence  for  some  time,  not 
quite  knowing  how  to  take  this  new  incident.  At 
length  Phil  looked  all  around.  •     > 

"  Where's  Bart  ?  "  he  asked,  "  and  Bruce  ?  " 

"  They're  not  up,"  said  Tom.  "  Don't  wake  them. 
Let  them  sleep  as  long  as  they  can." 

*'  Up  ?  They're  not  down,  either,"  said  Phil. 
"  Their  berths  are  empty." 

The  boys  all  stared  at  each  other.  A  suspicion 
flashed  across  their  minds. 

"  Sure  and  if  they're  not  up  nor  down,  they 
must  be  in  the  boat,  and  there  you  have  it,"  said 
Pat,  dryly.  "And  it's  meself,"  he  added,  "that 
'ud  be  proud  to  be  with  thim  this  day." 

"  The  boat  ?    But  what  for  ?  "  asked  Phil. 


THE  DISCOVERY. 


61 


"  They  must  have  started  off  for  the  ship,"  said 
'om,  who  now  understood  all. 
At  this  they  all  looked  with  eager  eyes  over  the 
rater  in  the  direction  of  the  ship.  All  thought 
lat  they  could  see  a  shadowy  spot,  but  it  was 
)o  indistinct  as  yet  to  be*  resolved  into  anything. 
yi'ter  a  few  minutes  Phil  went  below,  and  returned 
fith  the  glass,  through  which  he  looked  long  and 
ttentively. 

"  It's  them,"  said  he  at  last,  passing  the  glass  to 
rthur. 

Arthur  looked,  and  then  Tom,  and  then  Pat, 
id  then  Captain  Corbet.  It  grew  brighter  and 
righter  every  moment,  and  at  length,  as  Corbet 
)ked,  he  saw  the  boat  plainly  for  an  instant ;  but 
^e  next  moment  the  glare  of  the  rising  sun  drove 
!&  eyes  away.  The  sun  rose  and  ascended  higher, 
>d  still  they  could  see  the  boys  rowing  with  quick 
rokes  very  far  away,  while  beyond  lay  the  strange 
lip. 

It  was  still  as  low  down  as  ever,  "below  the 
jrizon,"  as  Captain  Corbet  said,  but  was  very 
ich  larger  and  plainer.  Every  one  of  them 
)ndered  how  she  could  be  in  reality  so  far  away 
twenty  miles.  None  of  them  spoke,  however, 
it  stood  with  varying  feelings,  staring  in  silence 
tor  their  companions. 

|0f  them  all  the  most  affected  was  Captain 
)rbet.  At  the  first  mention  of  the  fact  he  had 
irted,  and  after  having  assured  himself  of  its 


i' 

r 


I 


t 


68  PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 

truth  with  his  own  eyes,  he  exhibited  every  mark 
of  the  deepest  agitation. 

"Wal,"  said  he,  as  he  stood  with  his  head  bowel 
upon  his  breast.  "  I  never  1  Who'd  a  thought  it  I 
Why,  its  ravin  madness.  And  them,  too,  thinkin 
of  rowin  to  a  ship  that's  below  the  horizon. 
Twenty  mile  in  that  thar  boat,  if  it's  an  inch, 
and  two  mile  an  hour's  the  most  they  can  do. 
Why,  it's  temptin  fate.  It's  flyin  in  the  face  of 
Providence.  That's  what  it  is.  That  thar  ship's 
twenty  mile  away.  The  wind'U  come  up  before 
they  get  half  way.  They'll  never  get  there  — 
never.  And  stealin  off  in  this  way,  too !  Why 
didn't  they  get  me  to  go  with  them?  Why  didn't 
they  ask  my  advice  ?  And  them,  too,  a  trustin  of 
their  two  perecious  lives  in  that  thar  ferrail  bark, 
that  hadn't  ought  ever  to  go  more'n  a  mile  at  the 
furthest.  And  here  am  1,  chained  to  this  post, 
and  can't  move,  and  them  a  rushin  on  to  utter 
ruination.  0,  boys,  dear  boys,"  he  concluded,  in 
a  kind  of  wail,  "  for  your  sakes  I  want  the  wind  to 
rise,  but  for  their  sakes  I  want  it  to  contennew  a 
calm." 

"  0,  captain,  never  fear,'^  said  Arthur,  cheerfully. 
"They'll  take  care  of  themselves  easy  enough; 
and,  in  fact,  the  more  I  think  of  it,  the  better  it 
seems." 

"I  only  wish  I  was  in  the  boat,"  said  Tom, 
heartily. 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Phil. 


SOLOMON'S  HOPEFULNESS. 


69 


ry  mark 

i  bowel 
lught  it  I 
,  thinkin 

horizon, 
an  inch, 

can  do. 
1  face  of 
ar  ship's 
p  before 

there  — 
)!  Why 
hy  didn't 
rustin  of 
rail  bark, 
le  at  the 
;his  post, 

to  utter 
luded,  in 
e  wind  to 
itennew  a 

heerfully. 
enough ; 
better  it 

laid  Tom, 


t 


<!  fl^tV 


"5 


"  Sure  and  that  same  I  said  meself  at  the  first," 
jaid  Pat. 

Meanwhile  Solomon  had  stood  a  little  apart  from 
tliG  rest,  looking  after  the  boat,  but  manifesting 
very  different  emotions.  His  occupation  being 
gone,  he  had  come  upon  deck  to  see  what  the 
prospects  might  be,  and  had  heard  everything. 
Taking  advantage  of  a  moment  when  the  glass 
was  not  in  requisition,  he  had  given  a  look  towards 
the  receding  boat,  and  had  assured  himself  by 
actual  inspection  of  the  facts  of  the  case.  The 
moment  that  he  had  done  this  he  drew  a  long 
breath,  laid  down  the  glass,  and  then  stood  look- 
ing after  the  boys  with  a  gentle  smile  irradiating 
his  ebony  face.  From  time  to  time  he  would  close 
his  eyes,  sigh  gently,  and  his  lips  would  move  as 
though  whispering  to  himself,  while  once  or  twice 
half  audible  chuckle  escaped  him. 
"  Tell  you  what  it  is,"  said  he  at  length  ;  "  don^t 
roxL  go  on.  Dem  yer  boys  is  goin  to  save  der 
)lessed  selves  and  us  too.  It's  my  pinion  dey'U 
>ring  us  luck,  fust  rate,  too,  fust  chop,  tip-top, 
)rime.  Hooray !  Dey'U  quaint  dem  yar  seamen 
)b  our  difficulties,  an  dey'U  come  back  a  flyin 
'id  a  big  boat-load  of  pro-visium.  0,  you  can't 
h-bwn  dem  blessed  chilen.  Dey're  boun  to  tak 
;ar  ob  demselves,  and  dey'U  work  dar  way  ober 
le  oceum  foam,  to  sabe  de  libes  ob  all  aboard,  and'll 
)e  back  to-night  to  tea.  Hooray  I  Mind,  I  tell 
rou  1 " 


70  PICKED  UP  ADRIFT.  * 

The  gayety  and  hopefulness  of  Solomon  did  not 
fail  to  be  communicated  to  all  the  rest,  until  at 
length  even  Captain  Corbet  was  willing  to  admit 
that  it  was  just  as  well,  after  all,  that  they  had 
gone,  though  he  still  professed  to  feel  hurt  that  his 
advice  had  not  been  asked. 

To  the  boys  their  situation  seemed  now  in  every 
way  more  endurable.  They  had  at  least  something 
to  hope  for,  and  the  adventure  of  their  companions 
formed  a  perpetual  subject  for  thought  or  conversa- 
tion. Even  the  calm  was  now  welcome,  for  as  long 
as  this  continued  it  would  be  favorable  to  the  boat. 
On  the  other  hand,  should  the  wind  arise,  they 
could  up  sail  and  after  them.  They  all  thought 
that  Captain  Corbet's  estimate  of  a  distance  of 
twenty  miles  was  extravagant;  and  even  if  the 
ship  was  "  below  the  horizon,"  they  concluded  that 
at  the  farthest  it  could  not  be  more  than  eight  or 
ten  miles  away.  Allowing  two  miles  an  hour  for 
the  boat,  they  thought  that  Bruce  and  Bart  might 
reach  their  destination  by  nine  or  ten  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  and  thus  have  the  greater  part  of  the 
day  still  before  them. 

As  the  hours  passed  away,  the  boys  thus  be- 
guiled the  time  by  various  speculations  ahout  the 
progress  of  their  companions.  The  calm  continued ; 
and  they  were  not  sorry,  for  they  saw  in  this  the 
best  chance  for  a  successful  issue  to  the  enterprise. 
Phil  irade  a  sort  of  chart,  with  the  schooner  and 
the  ship  in  proper  position,  and  marked  off  ten 


THE   EXPEDITION. 


71 


intervals  wliich  he  estimated  at  a  mile  each.  For 
hour  alter  hour  they  watched  this,  and  amused 
themselves  by  indicating  on  it  the  progress  of 
their  friends.  At  length  it  was  ten  o'clock,  and  all 
the  boys  felt  quite  sure  that  the  boat  had  reached 
;he  ship. 

Meanwhile  the  two  adventurous  boys  had  been 
joing  on  their  expedition.  At  a  hundred  yards 
'om  the  schooner  they  had  stopped,  as  we  have 
jeen,  and  looked  anxiously  around  in  the  direction 
'here  they  supposed  the  stranger  to  lie.  For 
some  time  they  could  see  nothing ;  but  at  length, 
IS  it  grew  lighter,  they  detected  her  masts  through 
the  gloom,  and  were  overjoyed  at  finding  that  she 
^as  nearer  than  on  the  previous  day.  They  had 
lade  a  mistake,  however,  as  to  the  right  direction, 
for  the  ship  lay  very  much  more  to  one  side. 

"  We've  drifted  nearer  together  during  the 
n'ght,"  said  Bruce,  "and  I  don't  believe  she's 
)ver  three  miles  away." 

Saying  this,  he  changed  the  boat's  course,  and 
leading  for  the  ship,  pulled  with  all  his  might. 
"I   say,  Bruce,"  said   Bart,   "you'd  better  not 
[pull  so  hard  at  first;  you'll  tire  yourself." 

'•'  0,  it's  only  till  we  get  further  from  the  schooner, 
want   to   get  well   out  of  the  reach  of  hearing 
Ibefore  the  fellows  see  us.     I'll  take  it  easy  after 
la  time." 

Saying  this,  he  pulled  on,  watching  the  schooner, 
[and  succeeded  in  getting  so  far  away,  that  by  the 


72  PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 

time  they  came  on  deck  he  could  only  distinguish 
the  moving  figures.  Then  he  slackened  his  efforts 
somewhat. 

.  "  There  isn't  a  bit  of  prospect  of  any  wind," 
said  he.  "  J  tell  you  what  it  is,  my  boy :  I'd  far 
rather  be  here  this  minute  than  aboard  the 
Antelope." 

"  So  would  I,"  said  Bart ;  "  but  can  you  imagine 
the  state  of  mind  that  the  fellows  must  be  in  ?  " 

"  0,  they'll  be  glad  after  the  first  excitement's 
over." 

"  I  wonder  if  they  saw  us.'* 

"  Of  course." 

"  They  didn't  shout,  or  anything." 

"  We  were  too  far  off  to  hear  them." 

"  No,  we  weren't ;  but  I  suppose  we  were  so  far 
off  that  they  thought  it  would  do  no  good." 

For  about  half  an  hour  Bruce  pulled  quite 
leisurely,  for  he  wished  to  husband  his  strength 
as  much  as  possible,  and  then  Bart  took  his  turn 
at  the  oars.  Not  much  was  said,  partly  because 
the  exertion  of  rowing  did  not  allow  of  any  pro- 
longed conversation,  and  partly  because  they  were 
too  much  filled  with  their  own  thoughts,  arising 
out  of  the  suspense  of  the  occasion. 

At  length,  after  rowing  for  another  half  hour, 
Bart  handed  the  oars  to  Bruce,  and  took  his  seat 
in  the  stern. 

The  moment  he  did  so  be  uttered  a  cry  of 
surprise. 


GETTING  NEARER. 


73 


tinguish 
is  efforts 

''  wind," 
:  rd  far 
ard     tlio 

imagine 
in  ?  " 
tement's 


re  so  far 


jf 


id  quite 
strength 
his  turn 
because 
any  pro- 
ley  were 
,  arising 

alf  hour, 
:  his  seat 

I  cry  of 


"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Bruce. 

"  Why,  how  near  we're  getting  I  "  "^said  Bart. 

"  Of  course  we  are." 

"  I  haven't  looked  since  I  took  the  oars,  on  pur- 
ioso  to  see  what  our  progress  is.  And  now  —  why, 
sally,  Bruce,  it  seems  as  if  we  must  be  half  way 
Iready." 

"Of  course   we  are,"  said  Bruce,  "and  more 


lo 


o 


jf 


0 


"  Why,  she's  as  low  in  the  water  as  ever." 
"  I  know;  there's  something  queer  about  her." 
'^  She   looks   as  though   she'd  been  in  a  heavy 
gBle." 

"She  must  have  been." 

"  I  don't  see  a  soul  on  board." 

"  I  haven't  seen  any  one,  either." 

"  Perhaps   no  one   is   up  yet.     It's  early,  you 


ow. 


V 


''  I  hope  it's  that,"  said  Bruce. 
Bart  was  silent  for  a  few  momenta.    At  length 
said, — 

"  I  should  like  to  see  some  signs  of  life  there, 

|must  say." 
"Well,  we'll  know  all  about  her  by  the  time 
Ki're  through  your  next  pull." 
Bruce  now  rowed,  and  Bart  sat  with  his  eyes 
:ed  on  the  ship.  She  still  lay  as  low  in  the 
iter  as  ever,  but  they  could  see  her  bulwarks 
linly,  and  her  cabins.     Her  rigging  seemed  as 

Isordered  as  ever,  and  it  was  a  puzzle  to  Bart, 


74  PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 

why,  in  this  calm  weather,  she  should  be  so  neg- 
lected.  Vanous  unpleasant  thoughts  arose  in 
his  mind,  but  he  kept  them  to  himself.  Thus  the 
time  passed,  and  Bruce  rowed,  and  the  boat  drew 
steadily  nearer.  At  length  he  gave  the  oars  over 
to  Bart,  and  took  his  seat  in  the  stern. 

By  this  time  they  were  not  more  than  a  mile 
from  the  ship.  She  was  certainly  very  low  in  the 
water.  At  a  distance  they  had  supposed  that  her 
sails  were  furled.  They  could  now  see  that  she 
had  no  sails  at  all.  There  was  her  jib,  and  that 
was  all.  There  was  no  sign  of  life  aboard,  and  the 
disorder  in  her  rigging  was  more  perceptible  faan 
ever. 

"Bart,"  said  Bruce  in  a  solemn  tone,  after 
he  had  gazed  silently  at  the  ship  for  full  ten 
minutes. 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  think  about  her  ?  " 

''What?" 

"  It's  my  opinion  that  there's  not  a  soul  on  board 
of  her."  .  •       - 

Bart  was  silent.  •  - 

"  She's  evidently  been  in  a  storm ;  her  sails  are 
gone  ;  her  rigging  is  every  way.  The  crew  have 
probably  deserted  her ;  and,  yes,  she  is  —  there's 
no  doubt  about  it.     I  suspected  it  —  I  knew  it." 

*'  She's  what  ?  "  asked  Bart; 

"  Waterlogged  I  "  said  Bruce. 

Bart  turned  his  head  and  looked  at  her  for  a 


THE  BOYS  ENTHUSIASTIC. 


75 


Q  a  mile 
)w  in  the 
that  her 
that  she 
and  that 
I,  and  the 
ible  tlian 

ne,  after 
full  ten 


9» 


on 


board 


sail?  are 
rew  have 
there's 
?new  it." 


ler  for  a 


g  time.    He  said  not  a  word.    At  last  he  turned 

Bruce. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  at  any  rate,  we  must  board 
r.     After  coming   so    far,    we   can't    go   back, 
[esides,  we  may  find  something." 
"  Find  something  ?     Of  course  we  shall,"  said 
uce,   confidently.     "We'll   find   lots   of  things, 
e'll  find  barrels  of  pork,  and  beef,  and  bread, 
d  other  things  besides,  no  doubt.     When   they 
lift  her,  they  would  only  take  enough  to  last  them 
they   got  ashore.     They  must   have   left  the 
|reater    part    of   their    supplies   and   sea  stores 
Ifchind." 

"Of  course,"  said  Bart;  "so  here  goes." 
And  with  these  words  he  pulled  as  vigorously 
i^  though  he  had  not  yet  rowed  a  stroke. 

;  And  now  every  minute  they  drew  nearer  and 
ilftarer.  Bart  rowed  without  turning  his  head, 
jpit  Bruce  sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  upca  her, 
pcasionally  telling  Bart  when  he  got  out  of  his 
urse.  ,.  . 

|As  they  drew  nearer  in  this  way,  every  doubt 
s  removed,  if  there  had  be'*n  any  doubts  in  the 
nd  of  cither.  The  ship  was  evidently  deserted, 
e  was  also  as  evidently  waterlogged.  Now  they 
re  able  to  account  for  what  had  puzzled  them 
ore  ;  her  lying  so  low  in  the  water,  and  yef  at 
same  time  seeming  so  near.  Her  nearness 
s  not  apparent,  but  real ;  her  lowness  in  the 
ter  actual,  and  not  seeming.     That  she  had  been 


76 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


deserted  by  her  ciew  was  more  and  more  evident 
every  moment,  for  as  they  drew  nearer,  they  could 
see  not  a  sign  of  life.  Had  there  been  any  Qne  on 
board,  he  would  certainly  have  made  himself 
visible. 

At  length  Bruce  bawled  out,  "  Ship,  ahoy  I " 
Bart  stopped  rowing  and  looked  around.  Both 
boys  listened.  They  did  not  expect  any  answer, 
nor  did  any  answer  come.  They  waited  for  about 
a  minute,  and  then  Bart  rowed  on.  In  about  two 
minutes  they  were  alongside.  The  oars  were 
thrown  in,  the  boat  secured,  and  the  two  boys 
stepped  aboard. 

There  was  a  mixture  of  attraction  and  repulsion 
in  the  first  sight  of  the  ship,  which  afiected  the  boys 
very  peculiarly.  She  lay  waterlogged.  Her  decks 
were  on  a  level  with  the  sea.  But  hex  bulwarks 
rose  six  feet  high  above  the  water,  and  the  deck 
itself  afforded  a  spacious  area  on  which  to  walk. 
The  deck  was  white  with  the  washing  of  many 
waters,  and  dry  in  the  warm  sun,  which  had  shone 
upon  it  for  some  days  past.  All  the  boats  were 
gone  except  one,  which  hung  at  the  starboard 
davits,  and  looked  like  the  captain's  gig.  The 
cook's  galley  stood  amidships,  and  astern  there 
was  a  quarter-deck.  The  cabin  doors  were  open 
wide.  The  forecastle  was  also  open.  The  main 
hatchway  was  open,  and  the  boys,  looking  in, 
could  see  the  cargo.  It  consisted  of  enormous 
pine  logs.    .. 


re  evident 
they  could 
my  Qne  on 
d    himself 

hoy  I " 
ind.     Both 
ly  answer, 

for  about 
about  two 
oars  were 

two   boys 

'.  repulsion 

d  the  boys 

Her  decks 

bulwarks 

the  deck 

h  to  walk. 

^  of  many 

had  shone 

)oats  were 

starb  jard 

gig.     The 


ern   there 
vere  open 
The  main 

w 

)oking  ill, 

'^S  ' 

enormous 

■1, 

w 


WATERLOGGED. 


77 


The  sight  of  this  cargo  explained  all.  This  was 
timber  ship,  no  doubt,  from  Quebec,  which  had 
countered  a  storm  in  the  gulf,  and  sprung  aleak, 
n  becoming  waterlogged,  she  had  been  deserted 
d  left  to  her  fate  ;  yet  her  cargo,  which  was  of 
ood,  prevented  her  from  sinking,  and  the  huge 
icks  of  timber  served  to  give  her  stiffness  as 
ell  as  buoyancy,  and  preserve  her  from  breaking 
To  Bart  a  timber  ship  was  the  most  familiar 
ing  in  the  world,  for  he  had  been  brought  up  in 
i|  timber  port ;  his  fatlier  sailed  timber  ships,  and 
j|ie  whole  situation  wa.s  one  which  he  perfectly 
Itoderstood  at  the  very  first  glance. 
J  The  boys  walked  about  the  decks.  To  their 
ielight,  they  saw  several  water  casks  lashed  behind 
^e  mainmast,  and  a  row  of  barrels  that  looked  as 
^  they  contained  provisions,  for  they  all  bore  the 
©loquent  inscription :  — 


MESS  PORK. 


foing  into  the  cook's  galley,  they  saw  the  cook- 
ig-stove  in  good  working  order,  and  the  inmost 
liought  and  spontaneous  expression  of  each  was, — 

"  Won't  Solomon  rejoice  when  he  sees  this  I " 

They  then  went  aft. 

They  entered  the  cabin.  ^    . 

There  was  a  passage-way  about  three  feet  wide. 

)n  each  side  there  was  a  door  which  was  open. 

)oking  in,  they  saw  on  one  side  a  room  full  of 


78 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


ropes,  and  sails,  and  oakum,  while  on  the  other 
was  another  room  full  of  ship^s  stores. 

Passing  on,  they  reached  the  cabin  itself.  It 
was  a  room  about  twelve  feet  wide  and  sixteen 
feet  long.  A  door  at  one  end  opened  into  another 
cabin  aft.  On  the  sides  of  both  cabins  were  doors 
opening  into  state-rooms.  Two  of  these  were 
very  well  furnished,  and  in  the  after  cabin  there 
was  a  large  and  comfortable  state-room,  which  both 
the  boys  decided  to  have  been  the  captain's.  The 
furniture  was  all  confused.  The  carpet  was  damp. 
It  seemed  as  though  the  sea  had  been  careering 
through  these  cabins  and  state-rooms.  But  the 
upper  parts  had  been  spared ;  and  in  the  pantry 
where  the  boys  at  length  found  themselves,  they 
saw,  with  a  pleasure  that  cannot  be  described,  the 
contents  of  the  upper  shelves  as  dry  as  when  they 
were  first  put  there. 

At  this  they  rejoiced  more  than  at  anything  else. 


■iiiliiia 


ON  BOARD  THE  DESERTED  SHIP. 


79 


VI. 


Bruce  and  Bart  on  hoard  the  deserted  Ship.  —  New 
Discoveries,  —  Tlie  Cook's  Galley,  —  A  sumptuous 
Bepast.  —  Observations.  —  A  Beturn  baffled.  — 
Back  again.  —  The  Antelope.  —  The  Bipple  in  the 
Water,  —  Speculations.  —  Tlie  Sail  to  the  Ship.  — 
Puzzle  about  the  lost  Ones.  —  Nearer  and  nearer. 
—  Unexpected  and  astounding  Welcome! 

^HE  state  of  mind  and  body  in  which  Bruce 
and  Bart  found  themselves  was  of  such  a 
kind  that  the  discovery  of  a  well-stocked 
pantry  and  store-room  gave  them  more  delight 
than  they  had  known  for  a  very  long  time.  They 
themselves  were  ravenously  hungry  ;  for  the  appe- 
tite which  had  been  quickened  by  their  long  fast 
had  been  sharpened  by  exercise,  and  they  also 
could  not  forget  that  their  friends  on  board  the 
Antelope  were  depending  uj)on  this  expedition  as 
much  as  themselves.  Uncfor  such  circumstances 
they  looked  around  upon  the  well  stocked  shelves, 
and  as,  one  after  another,  they  recognized  well- 
known  and  favorite  articles  of  food,  tears  of  joy 
started  to  their  eyes. 


80 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


Tea,  and  coffee,  and  sugar,  and  butter,  and 
potted  meats,  and  hams,  and  pickles,  and  many 
other  delicacies  of  a  similar  kind,  showed  that  their 
predecessors  had  not  been  indifferent  to  the  pleas- 
ures of  the  table.  In  taking  leave  they  seemed  to 
have  been  very  modest  in  their  requirements, 
since  they  had  taken  away  but  little.  As  they 
continued  their  researches,  they  found  other  arti- 
cles which  increased  their  delight.  There  were  a 
barrel  of  apples,  boxes  of  raisins,  drums  of  figs,  bags 
of  nuts,  bottles  of  raspberry  vinegar  and  of  lemon 
sirup,  a  demijohn  full  of  lime  juice,  and  a  delicious 
Cheshire  cheese.  Leaving  the  pantry  and  going 
into  another  store-room,  they  saw  numerous  barrels, 
some  of  which  contained  beef,  and  others  pork. 
Opening  another  door,  they  looked  in,  and  saw  a 
chamber  lined  with  tin  and  filled  with  pilot  bread. 

"  I  say,  Bruce,"  said  Bart,  "  let's  postpone  any 
further  searches  now,  and  get  breakfast." 

"  All  right.     What  shall  we  have  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  feel  strongly  inclined  for  some  tea, 
broiled  bacon,  toasted  biscuit,  and  Welsh  rarebit." 

"  Why  don't  you  add  a  few  other  things  ?  "  said 
Bruce,  with  a  laugh.  "  How  can  we  cook  any- 
thing?" 

"  Why,  in  the  cook's  galley." 

*'  But  there  isn't  any  fuel." 

"  Why,  there's  a  lot  of  coal  in  that  front  store- 
room, and  fagots  of  wood.  Didn't  you  see 
them  ?  " 


A  SUMPTUOUS   REPAST. 


81 


"  I  didnH  notice."  .  ^     . 

"  Well,  I  did,  and  Vm  going  to  make  a  fire.'' 

"  Have  you  any  matches  ?  '^ 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  you  make  the  fire,  and  I'll  set  the  table." 

"  0,  no ;  don't  set  the  table  here.  Let's  eat  oa 
the  quarter-deck.     It's  rather  close  in  here." 

"  Very  well ;  I'll  gather  the  dishes  and  eatables." 

Bart  now  went  about  his  task.  Going  into  the 
store-room,  he  found  the  fuel,  and  carrying  a  supply 
to  the  cook's  galley,  he  succeeded  in  a  few  min- 
utes in  producing  a  roaring  fire.  Then  he  filled 
the  kettle,  and  before  long  the  water  began  to  boil. 

By  that  time  Bruce  was  ready  with  his  part  of 
the  business.  The  teapot  was  brought  forward, 
and  the  tea  set  to  draw.  Then  a  few  slices  of 
very  superior  ham  were  placed  over  the  coals  and 
broiled.  While  Bruce  attended  to  this,  Bart 
soaked  some  pilot  biscuit  in  water  till  they  were 
quite  soft,  after  which  he  fried  them  in  butter  on 
the  sfove.  He  then  proceeded  to  try  his  hand  at 
a  Welsh  rarebit.  He  cut  up  some  thin  slices  of 
cheese,  added  butter,  and  then  allowed  it  all  to 
liquefy  over  the  fire.  Having  accomplished  this, 
the  two  adventurers  conveyed  their  things  to  the 
quarter-deck,  and  sat  down  to  breakfast.  ^ 

Even  had  they  been  less  hungry  they  would 
have  enjoyed  that  breakfast.  True,  they  had  no 
milk  in  their  tea,  but  they  had  long  since  grown 
accustomed,  on  board  the.  Antelope,  to  dispense 


82 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


with  that.  The  tea  was  of  a  very  superior  quality, 
the  fried  biscuit  was  moat  savory,  the  broiled  ham 
was  a  great  success,  and  the  Welsh  rarebit  was 
pronounced  delicious. 

Already  they  had  turned  occasional  glances  over 
the  water,  and  had  seen  the  Antelope,  lying  appar- 
ently three  or  four  miles  away,  in  the  same  place 
where  they  had  left  her.  Now,  after  they  had  sat- 
isfied their  appetites,  they  began  to  look  at  her 
more  closel}",  and  to  discuss  the  time  of  their 
return.  They  felt  anxious  to  go  back  as  soon  as 
possible,  but  decided  that  they  might  as  well  post- 
pone it  until  they  were  thoroughly  rested. 

It  was  evident  to  the  boys  that  the  ship  which 
they  had  boarded  had  been  deserted  very  hastily, 
and  they  thought  that  her  company  must  have 
boarded  some  other  ship.  In  this  way  only  could 
they  account  for  the  numerous  things  which  had 
been  left  behind.  Among  these  was  a  very  good 
spy-glass.  Bruce  had  seen  this  while  preparing 
breakfast,  and  had  brought  it  on  deck  with  the 
other  things.  As  they  now  sat  on  the  deck  after 
breakfast,  they  amused  themselves  for  some  time 
with  looking  at  the  Antelope.  They  could  see  sev- 
eral figures  on  the  deck,  but  could  not  distinguish 
one  from  another.  They  tried  to  tell  by  watching 
their  movements  who  each  one  might  be.  A 
solitary  figure,  that  stood  motionless  at  the  stern, 
they  were  certain  was  Captain  Corbet,  while 
another  figure,  which  indulged  in  rathier  eccentric 


OBSERVATIONS. 


83 


movements,   seemed  to  be    Solomon.      The   rest 
could  not  be  guessed  at. 

They  had  already  found  out  the  name  of  the 
ship.  They  saw  it  in  many  places,  on  a  row  of 
buckets  that  hung  in  front  of  the  cabin,  on  the 
captain's  gig,  on  the  cook's  galley ;  they  saw  it 
engraved  on  a  brass  plate  on  the  cabin  door,  on 
the  capstan,  and  on  the  spy-glass ;  and  this  name, 
which  they  thus  saw  in  so  many  places,  was,  — 

PETREL,    LIVERPOOL. 


In  dis^cussing  her  fate,  they  concluded  that  she 
had  loaded  with  timber  at  Quebec,  had  encoun- 
tered a  severe  gale  in  the  gulf  and  sprung  a  leak, 
and  that  another  ship  had  hove  in  sight,  to  which 
the  captain  and  crew  of  the  Petrel  had  fled  in 
their  boats,  without  taking  anything  off  their 
ship.  They  must  have  deserted  her  under  the 
impression  that  she  was  going  down. 

Thus  they  accounted  for  the  present  situation. 

Thev  decided  to  leave  at  eleven  o'clock  for  the 
Antelope,  and  return  with  the  schooner  as  soon  as 
possible.  Nearly  an  hour  still  remained,  and  they 
thought  it  would  be  a  good  idea  to  prepare  the 
Petrel  for  the  reception  of  visitors,  so  as  to  afford 
as  cheerful  ah  impression  as  possible.  This  could 
be  effected  by  making  the  cabin  more  "ship- 
shape." It  seemed  to  have  been  entered  by  roll- 
ing seas;  for  the  furniture   was  lying  confusedly 


A^ 


^-^ 


V\*  ";  ^^ 


.0.,  \*^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


15 

iiiiZ 

IIIIM 

II  1.8 


1-4    ill  1.6 


Va 


^ 


n 


m 


->  > 


7 


r5    ^^     ////I 


84 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


about,  and  there  was  some  dampness  in  the  air. 
The  bedding  also  was  all  wet.  They  devoted 
themselves  now  to  this.  They  opened  the  sky- 
light, so  as  to  secure  ventilation,  and  the  stern- 
ports.  Then  they  brought  all  the  bedding  out, 
and  spread  it  over  the  quarter-deck,  where  the  hot 
sun  and  dry  wind  might  do  their  work.  Then 
they  swept  out  the  cabin,  and  arranged  the  fur- 
niture as  neatly  as  possible.  At  the  end  of  this 
a  great  change  was  produced,  and  the  cabin  of  the 
Petrel  assumed  an  appearance  not  only  of  comfort, 
but  almost  of  comparative  luxury. 

At  length  eleven  o'clock  came,  and  they  began 
to  prepare  for  their  return  to  the  Antelope.  These 
preparations  consisted  simply  in  filling  a  bag  with 
pilot  bread,  and  putting  this  on  board  the  boat ;  to 
which  they  added  a  ham,  with  some  tea,  sugar,  and 
butter.  They  then  embarked,  and,  pushing  off, 
began  to  row. 

But  scarcely  had  they  rowed  a  dozen  strokes 
when  they  became  sensible  of  a  breeze.  It  was  a 
gentle  breeze,  and  it  was  blowing  against  them. 
Bart,  who  was  rowing,  at  once  stopped,  and  Bruce 
at  the  same  moment  uttered  a  cry  which  mado 
him  look  round.  It  was  a  joyous  sight  that  they 
saw  —  a  siglit  which  assured  them  that  they  would 
be  spared  the  long  effort  of  pulling  back  again,  for 
there,  away  over  the  water,  they  saw  the  Ante- 
lope spreading  her  white  wings  to  catch  the 
gentle  breeze.     If  that  breeze  continued,  it  would 


A  RETURN  DISCUSSED. 


85 


bring  her  np  to  them  in  an  houi^  and  though  light, 
it  promised  to  be  steady  enough. 

"  I  wonder  if  it's  going  to  last,"  asked  Bart 
thoughtfully.  .  ,'        . 

*'  O,  I  think  so." 

"  Perhaps  it  may  be  as  well  not  to  pull  any  far- 
ther just  yet." 

"  Certainly  not.  This  breeze'll  bring  the  Ante- 
lope here  faster  than  we  can  row  towards  her, 
and  we  will  not  be  gaining  enough  time  to  pay  for 
our  trouble." 

"  But  the  wind  might  stop,  and  in  that  case  it 
would  be  a  pity  to  lose  the  time." 

"0,  it  can't  be  of  much  consequence.  If  the 
wind  does  die  away,  we  can  start  off.  We  can 
watch  the  Antelope  all  the  time." 

"  Well,"  said  Bart,  "  if  you're  agreed,  I  am,  I'm 
sure ;  and  besides,"  he  added,  "  1  should  like  to  do 
a  little  more  to  make  the  Petrel  more  presentable, 
and  in  better  order  for  receiving  our  visitors." 

"  Capital,"  said  Bruce.  "  1  didn't  think  of  that. 
•Yes,  that  will  be  far  better  than  wasting  time  in 
unnecessary  rowing." 

"  My  idea,"  said  Bart,  "  is  to  set  the  table  in  the 
cabin,  and  cook  a  sumptuous  breakfast  to  receive 
the  starving  Antelopers." 

"  Hurrah  I "  cried  Bruce,  with  enthusiasm  ; 
"that's  just  the  thing." 

"  The  cabin's  a  little  damp,  but  not  so  bad  as  it 
was,  and  by  the  time  they  get  here,  it'll  be  dry 


86 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


enough.  They  won^t  be  particular.  We'll  set  the 
table  regularly,  bring  out  the  be'=^t  china,  and  cook 
some  ham,  trot  out  some  of  those  potted  meats, 
and  have  both  tea  and  coffee." 

"  And  Welsh  rarebit." 

"  Well,  yes,  if  we  have  time  ;  but  the  fact  is,  I 
wasn't  altogether  satisfied  with  my  last  effort,  and 
we  can  try  it  again  some  other  time." 

This  new  project  was  a  most  fascinating  one  to 
both  the  boys,  who  returned  to  the  Petrel,  and  . 
hauled  up  their  boat  on  the  other  side,  so  that  it 
could  not  be  seen  from  the  Antelope.  This  was 
merely  to  heighten  the  surprise 'which  they  in- 
tended to  give.  They  then  went  to  work  to  pre- 
pare the  repast  with  which  they  wished  to  welcome 
their  friends ;  and  their  only  fear  now  was  that  the 
Antelope  would  reach  them  before  they  were 
ready.  Fortunately,  this  was  not  the  case.  The 
breeze  lasted,  but  it  was  Hght,  and  the  progress  of 
the  Antelope,  though  steady,  was  slow,  so  that  the 
t    0  boys  were  able  to  complete  their  preparations,  v 

Meanwhile,  the  time  on  board  the  Antelope  had 
passed  very  slowly.  The  boys  had  felt  full  of 
hope  about  the  result  of  the  expedition  of  Bart 
and  Bruce,  but  they  were  all  ravenously  hungry, 
and  hope  could  not  take  the  place  of  bread  and 
butter.  As  the  time  passed  they  all  felt  more  and 
more  impatient,  and  after  they  had  settled  for 
themselves  that  the  boat  had  reached  the  ship, 
they  began  to  look  for  its  return. 


CAPTAIN  CORBET'S   EXCITEMENT. 


87 


But  from  these  thoughts  they  were  all  roused 
by  a  sudden  cry  of  joy.  It  burst  forth  from  Cap- 
tain Corbet.  Every  one  started  and  turned  to  see 
what  had  happened.  Tliey  saw  an  exhilarating 
eight,  vvrhich  at  once  roused  them  from  thefr  gloom. 
There  at  the  stern  stood  their  venerable  friend,  a 
smile  of  exultation  on  his  aged  face,  tears  of  joy  in 
his  mild  eyes,  one  hand  waving  his  hat  in  the  air, 
and  the  other  pointing  over  the  water. 

"  It's  come  !   It's  come  1  Hooray  !  " 

This  was  what  he  said,  and  as  he  said  it  the 
boys  looked,  and  saw  all  over  the  water  a  gen- 
tle ripple.  Then  they  knew  it  all.  The  long- 
wished-for  wind  had  at  last  come,  and  they  were 
freed  from  their  long  and  irksome  imprisonment. 
In  an  instant  they  all  rushed  to  hoist  the  sails. 
As  they  hoisted  them  they  felt  the  gentle  air  on 
their  faces,  and  they  saw  the  sails  swelling  at  its 
touch.  Soon  all  sail  was  hoisted,  and  Captain 
Corbet,  with  an  exultant  smile,  stood  once  more  at 
the  helm,  and  the  Antelope  began  to  move  through 
the  waters. 

"  I  knowed  it,"  said  he,  "  I  knowed  it  all  along, 
and  I  said  it,  I  did.  That  thar  wind  was  bound 
to  come,  I  felt  it  in  my  bones ;  yea,  down  to  my 
butes.  I  saw  how  down  in  the  mouth  you  all  felt, 
and  didn't  like  to  make  you  too  san-goo-wine,  but 
I  knowed  it,  I  did,  I  knowed  it,  all  the  same ;  and 
here,  it  has  come  at  last,  sure  enough." 

The  progress  of  the  Antelope  was  slow,  but  it 


88 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


;l">ner;    but  though  beforf  h  ,    "''^•"^°*   °^' 

had  all  been  so  hnr,l   Z  '""'^   '^"'"^   ^^ey 

'o«t  their  appetites^TL     ^  ''""''''  "*'"'  '°  have 

;ntil  they  ha/reachoT;  ^    !"  ^f  *.  ^'^'^  '«  eat 
friends  again.     AnH   =.  t  '^'  "'"^  •'°'°ed  their 

the  water.  '°  ^'^'^^  -''^'^d  slowly  over 

-'5^ra;:;\r;re;r^  ''^  -'^^  — ^  hair 

discovered^ not  lo„";:?Jrf '  1"'  ^"  ^'^^^ 
«at.on.     They  could  so^fh-    u\     "^'^  "'^  ^er  sit 

B'-uce  had  been  able  to  do  f "", """  ^^^'  '^"d 
-•tti^g  low  down  in  a  oat,  Slile  "th!"^  ""''  '^-" 
Wff  on  the  deck,  or  the  t^ff.       V^'^  '^^'"^  ^te"* 

">-  could  Ue  out'thXf  ^°'>--'-' -d 
stranger  more  easily  character  of  the 

^C  tn:i:Xt^^-  learned  this: 

could   not   see.     What  Ld  1  '^°''"'   '"•  °°*  «'ey 
Where  were  Bruoranl  Bart   "t?  °'  ""  "^"^^ 
«'gns  of  any  boat  whatever     fi,!"^  '°"''^  '''  "° 
length  did  appear  in  thrlf  ^'^°'  "^  ^'fe  at 

cook's   galley!^  7r"hu;  wl^  °'  '""''^  fr"""  *he 

«h.>  through  the  gla  sTClT  t? r'"^  ^''^ 

6    ""' was  the  first  to  detect  this, 


PUZZLE  ABOUT  THE  LOST  ONES. 


89 


of 


and  it  was  not  long  before  all  the  boys  could  see 
it  with  the  naked  eve.  Smoke  of  itself  would 
have  indicated  human  life  ;  but  smoke  from  the 
cook's  galley  indicated  something  more,  and  was 
eloquently  suggestive  of  those  joys  of  the  table  to 
Avhich  they  had  too  long  been  strangers.  It  served 
to  assure  them  that  their  difficulties  were  ap- 
proaching an  end,  and  that  smoke  from  the  cook's 
galley  was  of  itself  enough  to  drive  away  the  last 
vestige  of  despondency. 

But,  in  the  mean  while,  what  had  become  of  Bruce 
and  Bart?  That  was  the  question  which  every 
one  asked  himself,  without  being  able  to  answer. 
Where  was  the  boat?  They  could  not  see  it  any- 
where. Could  the  boys  have  gone  on  board  the- 
ship?  They  must  have  done  so.  The  water  had 
been  too  calm  to  admit  of  the  probability  of  any 
evil  happening  to  them.  They  must  have  boarded 
the  ship. 

But  where  were  Bruce  and  Bart  now? 

No  one  could  tell.  ' 

The  Antelope  drew  steadily  nearer,  and  all  on 
board  watched  with  indescribable  eagerness  the 
strange  ship.  Now  they  could  see  her  disordered 
rigging,  her  yards  bare  of  sails,  her  open  hatch- 
way. They  could  see  bedding  lying  on  the  quar- 
ter-deck, and  the  open  skylight.  All  these  things 
indicated  life  on  board  ;  yet  of  that  life  there  was 
no  other  sign.  Where  was  the  captain  ?  Where 
were  the  crew  ?     Where  was  the  cook,  who  kept 


90 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


up  such  a  roaring^  fire  ?  It  was  all  a  puzzle.  Above 
all.  where  were  Bruce  and  Bart?    Who  could  tell? 

Nearer  and  nearer. 

Every  moment  brought  them  closer,  but  dis- 
closed no  living  being. 

Solomon  crept  up  slowly  to  Arthur,  and  gently 
touched  his  arm. 

Arthur  started,  and  turned. 

"  Hallo,  Solomon  !  what's  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  Mas'r  Atta,  I  donno  bout  dis  yer  craft,''  said 
Solomon,  in  a  tremulous  voice,  with  his  eyes  roll- 
ing wildly. 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter?"  asked  Arthur,  in  sur- 
prise. 

•'  Donno ;  dar's  somethin  drefful  curous  bout  dis 
yer  craft, —  beats  all  eber  I  see,  —  floatin  under 
water ;  full  ub  water,  an  not  sinkin ;  fire  a  burnin 
like  de  old  boy  in  de  cook's  galley,  an  not  a  livin 
man  aboard.  I  don't  like  it.  Tell  you  what,  now, 
I  don't  like  it." 

"  Pooh  !  nonsense  ;  "  said  Arthur.  "  Don't  be 
absurd,  Solomon.  You'll  take  your  turn  in  that 
cook's  galley,  perhaps,  before  sundown,  and  make 
acquaintance  with  the  cook  of  tho  ship."       * 

Solomon  shuddered  and  shook  his  head. 

They  were  now  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the 
ship. 

Suddenly  Captain  Corbet  put  both  hands  to  his 
mouth,  holding  the  tiller  between  his  legs,  and 
shouted,  in  a  loud  voice,  — 


ALONGSIDE. 


91 


"Ship,  ahoy  I" 

Then  came  an  answer. 

At  last  I 

And  what  an  answer  I 

Out  of  the  cabin  bounded  two  well-known  forms. 
They  rushed  out  dancing,  and  capering,  and  fling- 
ing their  hats  in  the  air.  They  shoited,  and  yelled, 
and  hurrahed.  They  ran  up  to  the  quartor-deck, 
and  repeated  these  actions  there.  Those  on  board 
the  Antelope  were  so  astounded  that  they  looked 
on  in  dumb  bewilderment. 

"Haul  up  alongside!"  cried  Bruce.  "Fetch 
her  round  I  I'm  captain  of  this  craft,  and  Bart  is 
mate ;  I'm  steward,  and  he's  cook ;  I'm  boatswain, 
and  he's  the  crew.  Hurrah  !  Haul  up  alongside, 
and  heave  us  a  line,  my  hearties." 

It  was  some  time  before  Captain  Corbet  could 
recover  sufficiently  from  his  bewilderment  to  be 
capable  of  doing  anything.  Half  mechanically  he 
managed  to  bring  the  Antelope  around,  and  man- 
aged it  just  in  time  to  cause  her  to  move  gently 
up  alongside.  Wade,  who  had  all  along  been  per- 
fectly stolid,  then  proceeded  to  secure  the  schooner 
to  the  ship  in  the  most  matter-of-fact  way  in  the 
world,  just  as  if  he  had  been  securing  her  to  the 
wharf  in  Grand  Pr^.  But  long  before  he  had 
taken  the  first  turn  in  the  rope,  the  boys  had. 
bounded  on  board  the  Petrel,  and  proceeded  to 
overwhelm  Bruce  and  Bart  with  countless  ques- 
tions. 


92 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


VII. 


All  aboard.  —  A  Welcome  of  the  best  Kind.  —  Tlie 
Invitation.  —  The  Banquet.  —  Amazement  of  the 
Visitors.  —  The  Repast.  —  Solomon  in  his  Glory. 
—  The  Manuscript  found  in  a  Bottle.  —  The  Fate 
of  the  Petrel.  —  Captain  Corbet  has  an  Idea.  — 
He  begins  to  brood  over  it.  —  A  Question  of  Sal- 
vage. —  How  to  make  one's  Fortune. 

MnL  RADUALLY  they  became  acquainted  with 
V^Mi  the  whole  truth  of  the  situation.  They  had 
^*  thought  thus  far  that  the  ship,  though  water- 
logged, was  still  in  the  possession  of  her  captain 
and  crew.  Boundless  was  their  astonishment  at 
learning  that  it  was  in  the  possession  of  Bruce  and 
Bart  alone,  and  the  astonishment  which  they  ex- 
perienced at  this  amazing  discovery  for  a  time 
drove  away  all  other  thoughts.  But  Nature  at 
length  asserted  her  supremacy,  and  the  pangs  of 
hunger,  for  some  time  past  kept  in  abeyance,  now 
awaked  in  full  force. 

"  Haven^t  you  found  anything  to  eat  ? "  asked 
Arthur,  in  a  low  voice;  tremulous  with  emotion. 


ABUNDANT   REPAST. 


93 


Bruce  did  not  reply,  but  looked  at  Bart.  The 
other  boys  turned  pale.  For  a  moment  the  awful 
thought  occurred  that  there  was  nothing ;  but  the 
next  instant  there  was  wafted  to  their  nostrils  tho 
savory  odor  of  broiled  ham,  which  overpowered 
that  mournful  thought,  and  drove  it  away  effec 
tually. 

«  Well,  T  don't  know,"  said  Bart,  "  but  that  we 
may  manage  to  scare  up  something.  I  suppose 
you're  not  very  particular.  Come  in  here,  and  I'll 
see  what  I  can  do  for  you." 

With  these  words  he  entered  the  cabin,  and  all 
the  others  followed. 

One  by  one  they  entered  the  cabin,  and  one  by 
one  each,  as  he  entered,  stood  rooted  to  the  spot, 
and  stared  around  in  dumb  amazement.  Captain 
Corbet  came  last.  He  took  one  look,  and  then 
exclaimed,  in  a  low,  prolonged,  and  tremulous 
voice, — 

"  Good  gerracious  !  " 

And  indeed  there  was  every  reason  for  surprise. 
They  had  come  in  expecting  to  enter  the  ruinous 
cabin  of  a  half-wrecked  ship,  with  perhaps  a  few 
mouldy  ship's  biscuit  to  be  divided  among  the  hun- 
gry company.  Instead  of  this  they  saw  a  table 
set  out  to  its  fullest  extent,  with  a  white  cloth 
spread,  and  on  that  table  a  repast  which  was  noth- 
ing less  than  sumptuous.  Tea,  coffee,  biscuit 
hard  and  toasted,  Welsh  rarebit,  broiled  ham, 
potted  shrimps,  game  pie,  pickled  oysters,  lobster, 


94 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


potted  salmon,  tomatoes,  potatoes  hot,  steaming, 
and  mealy,  apples,  raisins,  nuts,  figs,  raspberry 
vinegar,  lemon  sirup,  and  numerous  other  dain- 
ties which  Bart  and  Bruce  had  discovered  and 
drawn  forth  from  the  rich  store  that  lay  accumu- 
lated in  the  pantry  of  the  Petrel.  The  lavish  abun- 
danco  .of  everything,  as  well  as  the  astonishing 
variety,  overwhelmed  the  hungry  new  comers,  and, 
except  the  exclamation  of  Captain  Corbet,  not  one 
word  was  spoken.  It  was  a  moment  when  words 
were  useless. 

For  an  instant  or  so  Bruce  and  Bart  enjoyed  the 
astonishment  of  their  friends,  and  watched  the  effect 
with  a  triumphant  smile.  Th(3y  had  been  pur- 
posely lavish  in  this  first  entertainment  of  theirs, 
and  had  succeeded  in  placing  upon  the  table  a 
specimen  of  every  individual  article  for  food  or 
drink  which  the  ship  contained.  They  had  worked 
hard  in  anticipation  of  this  moment,  and  now  that 
it'  had  come,  they  found  it  a  complete  success. 

"  Come,'^  said  Bruce,  at  last,  "  you  can't  eat 
with  your  eyes,  you  know.  Come,  noble  captain, 
do  you  preside  at  this  festive  board.  Tom,  sit  on 
the  captain's  right,  Bart  on  his  left.  I'll  take  the 
foot  of  the  table,  with  Phil  on  my  right.  Ward, 
mf  bold  mate,  sit  next  to  Bart ;  Pat  and  Phil,  fall 
in.  Solomon,  you  go  and  install  yourself  in  the 
cook's  galley,  where  you'll  find  as  much  as  you  can 
eat  for  the  rest  of  the  dav." 

Upon  this  they  all  took  their  places,  and  began 


tl 


AN  AMPLE   REPAST. 


95 


to  eat  with  appetites  such  as  those  only  can  pos- 
sess who  have  fasted  for  twenty-four  hours  on  the 
sea.  Bart  and  Bruce  had  already  satisfied  their 
owk  wants ;  so  while  their  friends  were  eating  they 
gave  a  full,  complete,  and  exhaustive  account  of 
their  own  adventures,  and  their  doings  aboard 
of  the  Petrel. 

The  dinner  passed  off  most  delightfully,  and  a 
far  longer  time  was  spent  at  the  table  than  the 
boys  generally  gave  to  their  repast.  Ample  jus- 
tice was  done  to  the  bountiful  and  varied  supply 
that  graced  the  board.  After  the  first  pangs  of 
hunger  were  appeased,  there  were  a  thousand  new 
questions  to  be  asked  and  answered,  in  addition 
to  those  which  they  had  already  made.  Captain 
Corbet  alone  said  nothing.  He  sat  and  ate,  and 
listened,  and  from  time  to  time  leaned  back  in  his 
chair  w^ith  a  sigh  of  happiness,  and  surveyed  the 
company  with  a  smile  that  spoke  of  inward 
peace. 

"  My  dear  young  ferriends,"  said  the  venerable 
captain,  at  length,  taking  advantage  of  an  opening 
in  the  conversation  to  express  his  feelings,  "  it  is 
with  feelings  of  no  ordinary  deskeription  that  I 
now  address  you.  We  have  sailed  over  the  briny 
and  billowy  main  far  and  wide,  and  have  encoun- 
tered parls  and  dangers  more'n  any  ordinary  peo- 
ple, but  never  have  we  been  in  such  a  position, 
or  reduced  to  such  extremities,  as  in  these  last  few 
days.    And  now  look  at  us.     Here  we  air.    What 


9G 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


kind  of  an  abode  is  this  ?  Is  it  a  ship  ?  Scacely. 
Is  it  a  island  ?  Not  quite.  It's  enchanted  gerround  ! 
Here  we  air,  an  we've  been  led  by  the  kind  hand 
of  Providence  to  this  secluded  spot  in  the  midst 
of  the  wide  waste  of  waters.  We  come  here  in  a 
state  of  starvation,  witi:  our  minds  in  a  kine  of  de- 
spair ;  we  come  here,  and  we  found,  as  it  were,  a 
table  spread  for  us  in  the  wilderness.  So  far,  so 
good ;  and  I  know,  my  dear  young  Christian 
ferriends,  you  all  rejice  with  me,  and  feel  as  I  do, 
full  of  gladness  and  gerratitood.  But  secondly, 
my  dear  ferriends,"  continued  the  captain,  insen- 
sibly increasing  his  tone  and  manner  to  a  sermon- 
izing intensity,  "  there  air  things  about  this  here 
craft,  that  begin  to  occur  to  my  mind,  that  go  be- 
yond the  present  fleetin  moment,  and  interweave 
themselves  with  our  footoor  destiny.  I  ain't  a  goin 
to  say  jest  now  what  these  things  air,  but  I  want, 
fust  and  foremost,  to  browse  round,  and  inspect, 
and  cogitate,  and  meditate,  till  I  kin  hit  on  some 
kind  of  a  plan  for  workin  out  what  I  want.  I'll 
tell  you  when  I  get  it  all  thought  out,  but  for  the 
present  I  am  dumb." 

After  this  very  mysterious  conclusion.  Captain 
Corbet  rose  and  left  the  cabin.  For  the  remainder 
of  the  day  he  kept  by  himself.  He  wandered  all 
over  Liie  ship,  and  inspected  every  part  most  care- 
fully. Then  he  retreated  to  the  quarter-deck,  and, 
seating  himself  there,  lost  himself  in  his  own  ab- 
sorbing thoughts.     What  he  was  thinking  about 


SOLOMON  IN  HIS   GLORY. 


97 


the  boys  did  not  know,  nor  did  *  any  of  them  in- 
quire ;  for  they  were  all  far  too  much  taken  up  with 
the  novelty  of  the  situation  to  pay  any  attention 
to  him. 

Meanwhile  Solomon  had  followed  the  commands 
of  Bruce,  and  had  taken  himself  off  to  the  cook's 
galley.  There,  two  hours  afterwards,  on  leaving 
the  cabin,  the  boys  found  him.  He  had  that  ex- 
pression on  his  face,  and  had  installed  himself  in 
that  particular  attitude,  which  might  have  belonged 
to  one  who  had  lived  and  labored  here  for  years. 
He  had  eaten  a  huge  repast,  and  was  meditating 
over  a  roaring  fire. 

"  Hurrah,  Solomon,"  said  Bart,  who  was  the  first 
to  visit  him.  "  How  goes  it,  my  prince  of  darkies  ? 
This  is  a  little  ahead  of  the  Antelope — isn't  it? 
Now  you  can  begin  to  live  again ;  and  I  tell  you 
what,  you'll  find  enough  stuff  aft  there  to  give  us 
a  first-rate  bill  of  fare  every  day,  and  diflferent 
every  time." 

Solomon  jumped  up  with  a  grin. 

"  Is  de  dinna  oba,  Mas'r  Bart?"  he  asked. 

"0,  yes."  .    ^       ,  ,  ^^ 

"  Well,  den,  I  raus  go  aft  an  clar  away  de  tings, 
and  spect  for  myself,  to  see  what  we  got  roun  us 
in  dis  yer  craft.  I  been  a  tryin  to  cogitate  an 
contrive  for  suppa,  but  I  can't  manage  it  nohow 
till  I  know  zacly  what  I  got  to  put  my  ole  hands 
on.  I  s'pose  you'll  take  all  de  tings  aboard  de  An- 
telope right  away  ?  " 


98 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


"  Aboard  the  Antelope  ?  Indeed,  we  don't  in- 
tend to  do  anytliin*;-  of  the  kind." 

"  Why,  what  are  you  a  goin  to  do?'^ 

"Do?  Why,  we'll  stay  here  for  ever  so  long. 
It's  a  kind  of  desert  island,  you  know  —  only  it's 
ten  times  better."  =  . 

The  rest  of  the  boys  now  came  streaming  for- 
ward, wandering  all  over  the  ship.  Solomon  went 
to  the  cabin,  while  Bart  and  Bruce  proceeded  to 
examine  the  mattresses.  These  were  vury  much 
dryer  than  thoy  had  been,  but  still  were  so  damp 
that  several  of  them  would  require  two  or  three 
days  to  become  fit  to  sleep  on.  Others,  however, 
were  already  nearly  fit  for  use.  Bart  noticed  that 
the  wet  ones  came  from  the  port  side  of  the  ship, 
and  he  remembered  that  the  state-rooms  on  that 
side  were  much  damper  than  those  on  the  other. 
Water  seemed  to  have  penetrated  there.  He  ac- 
counted for  this  on  the  supposition  that  this  had 
been  the  leeward  side  in  a  gale,  and,  when  the  ship 
was  filling,  it  had  lain  low  down,  and  had  received 
the  washings  of  the  waves.  Fortunately,  the  store- 
room and  the  pantry  were  on  the  other  side,  and 
thus  their  contents  had  escaped  without  injury. 
But  the  wet  mattresses  themselves  were  after- 
wards taken  in  hand  by  Solomon,  who  opened 
them,  and  dried  their  contents  partly  in  front  of 
the  galley  stove  and  partly  in  the  open  air.  To 
assist  in  this  process  he  kindled  a  roaring  fire  in 
the  cabin,  which  served  a  double  purpose,  for  it 


THE   MANUSCRIPT   IN  THE  BOTTLE. 


99 


not  only  dried  the  mattresses  but  it  also  dried  tLe 
cabin  itself,  and  drove  away  the  last  vestige 
of  dampness  from  the  state-rooms  on  the  port 
side.     "  '•" '-    ••- ''-      ■  ■     '   '     '    "''    -  ■ 

While  busy  in  one  of  these,  l^a-rt  saw  a  bottle 
lying  on  the  floor.  It  was  c  rked,  On  taking  it 
up,  he  held  it  to  tl]e  light  to  see  what  liquid  might 
be  inside.  To  his  surprise  he  saw  no  liquid,  but 
some  folded  paper.  With  a  loud  cry  he  rushed 
forth  upon  deck,  displaying  his  bottle,  and  calling 
upon  all  the  boys  to  come.  -'  '■- 

In  a  few  moments  the  eager  boys  had  all  col- 
lected around  Bart,  and  even  Captain  Corbet  was 
roused  from  his  abstraction,  and  came  to  the  centre 
of  interest. 

"  Has  anv  one  a  corkscrew  ^  "  asked  Bart. 
'^    *'  There's  one  in  the  pantry, '  said  Bruce. 

''  I'll  go  and  get  it,"  said  Phil.       ^  ^  • 

«  Pooh  !  "  said  Tom  ;  "  break  the  bottle.  You^l 
never  get  at  the  paper  if  you  don't." 

"  Sure  enough,"  said  Bart;  and  the  next  instant 
he  struck  the  bottle  against  an  iron  belaying-pin, 
and  shivered  it  to  atoms.  The  paper  fell  on  the 
deck. 

Bart  snatched  it  up,  and  opened  it.  It  was  a 
piece  of  coarse  paper,  that  looked  as  though  it  had 
been  hastily  torn  from  some  book.  On  it  some 
writing  was  hurriedly  scrawled  with  a  pencil.  It 
was  as  follows :  — 


100  ;       PICKED   UP  ADRIFT.      .  "         . 

Ship  Petrel,  of  Liverpool,  from  Quebec,  with  Urn' 
her.  Fog  for  two  weeks,  and  violent  gales.  Lost 
reckoning.  Took  an  observation  last  in  lat.  46° 
5'  22'',  long.  59°  8'  2".  Ship  waterlogged,  on  beam- 
ends  J  and  going  to  pieces.     Taking  to  boats. 

"'^  Henry  Ilally  blaster. 

There  was  another  scrawl  that  seemed  intended 
for  a  date,  but  the  boys  could  not  make  it  out.  It 
looked  Hke  "  Tuesday,  March,"  but  it  miglit  have 
been  anything  else.  i, 

Such,  then,  was  the  writing.  The  captain  had 
believed  that  the  ship  was  actually  going  to  pieces, 
and  had  hurried  off  evidently  in  the  greatest  pos- 
sible haste,  and  had  probably  thrown  into  the  boats 
a  few  of  the  barest  necessaries  of  life. 

But  Bart  suggested  another  theory.  It  was  that 
the  captain  had  put  this  writing  in  the  bottle,  and 
had  got  it  all  ready  to  throw  over,  when  perhaps  a 
Pail  had  hove  in  sight,  and  thus  the  bottle  had  been 
left  in  the  cabin. 

Another  theory  was,  that,  in  his  hurry  or  panic, 
he  had  forgotten  all  about  the  bottle,  which  had 
floated  about  in  the  cabin,  and  been  left  in  one  of 
the  state-rooms  by  the  retreating  waves. 

It  was  evident  to  all  that  the  captain,  "  Henry 
Hall,"  had  lost  his  head.  In  his  terror  he  had  be- 
lieved that  the  ship  was  "  going  to  pieces  ;  "  whereas 
nothing  of  the  sort  was  going  on.  She  might  pos- 
sibly have  been  on  her  beam-ends,  since  he  said 


■':* 


SALVAGE. 


101 


80,  but  even  here  his  fears  might  have  exaggerated 
the  danger.  Captain  Corbet  thouglit  th'it  she  had 
been  struck  over  on  her  beam-ends,  and  held  down 
by  her  sails,  and,  when  these  were  torn  away,  she 
had  eventually  righted  herself. 

"  That  thar  skipper,"  said  he,  sententiously, 
"  was  frikened  out  of  his  seven  senses,  and  fancied 
the  craft  was  brakin  up.  So  he  rushed  to  the 
boats,  chucked  in  a  bag  of  biscuit  and  a  few  bot- 
tles of  water,  and  rowed  away  for  his  life."       .  /    * 

Captain  Corbet  paused  for  a  moment,  and  looked 
at  the  boys  with  a  very  singular  expression  on  his 
face. 

"  And  now,"  said  he,  "  my  dear  young  friends, 
do  you  know  what  you  air,  and  what  you've  ben 
an  gone  an  done  ?  " 

"  What  ?  "  asked  Bruce,  in  some  surprise  at  the 
captain's  tone  and  manner. 
.    "  Wal,  only  this  —  you're  salvors."  * 

"  Salvors  ! "  repeated  Bruce,  to  whom  this  word 
conveyed  no  meaning  in  particular. 

"  Salvors  !  "  repeated  Captain  Corbet,  impres- 
sively. "  Yes,  you've  found  this  here  ship  on  the 
broad  bosom  of  the  deep,  deserted ;  you've  took 
possession  —  she's  yours."  ..     ^       ^    , 

''  Well,  what  of  that?  "  said  Bruce.  "  For  that 
matter,  she  belongs  to  all  of  us." 

"  She  belongs  to  all  them  that  bear  a  hand  to 
bring  her  into  port." 

"  Into  port  I  "  cried  Bart,  in  great  surprise. 


102 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


"  Yes,  into  jjort,"  said  Captain  Corbet.  "  That 
tbar  was  the  very  fust  idee  that  entered  into  my 
head  as  I  sot  foot  on  this  liere  deck.  Tliis  noble 
ship,  this  valable  cargo,  —  is  this  to  be  given  up, 
or  surrendered  to  the  tender  mussies  of  the  piti- 
less and  ragin  ocean?  Not  if  I  knows  it.  Jf  we 
can  manage  to  navigate  this  here  craft  in'o  port, 
she's  ours  I  We  can  sell  her.  We  can  sell  her 
cargo.  It's  a  val'able  cargo.  It'll  give  each  of  us 
enough,  if  the  proceeds  air  divided,  to  set  us  up 
for  life.  For  my  part,  I'm  an  old  man,  with  one 
foot  in  the  grave;  but  I  never  forget  that  I  am  a 
feyther,  and  never  did  the  parential  heart  beat 
more  wildly  than  it  did  at  the  identical  moment 
when  this  thought  came  like  fire  into  my  brain. 
That's  so." 

"  But  how  in  the  world  can  we  get  her  into 
port?"  cried  Bart,  in  astonishment  and  excite- 
ment. '  '     "■     •  ■  "     -  "• 

"  Wal,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  "  that  thar's  the 
very  identical  pint  that  I've  been  a  cogitatin  over 
the  hull  arternoon.  I've  gone  about  this  here  craft 
on  all  sides,  an  I've  sot  an  surveyed  her  from  a 
distance.  I've  shot  my  eyes  an  meditated  her  all 
over.  But  thar's  one  grand  and  overpeowerin 
obstacle  in  the  way  to  a  fair  navigation,  and 
that  is,  she  hasn't  got  a  rag  of  a  sail  except 
that  jib." 

"  So  what  can  we  do?"  said  Bruce.  "We  can't 
get  her  to  move  an  inch  without  sails." 


IM 


HOW  TO   MAKE  ONE'S  FORTUNE. 


103 


"  Couldn't  we  rig  up  the  sails  of  the  Antelope  ?  " 
asked  Tom. 

Captain  Corbet  shook  his  head  mildly. 

^'  'Tain't  possible,"  said  lie,  "  no  how.  Fust  an 
foremost,  the  spread  of  canvas  on  the  schewner 
ain't  over  an  above  sufhcient  to  letch  her  along, 
and  on  this  here  ship  it  wouldn't  be  a  succum- 
staijce.  Why,  this  liore  ship  is  a  thousand  ten- 
ner, an  more  too.  Besider,"  added  the  venerable 
captain,  with  mild  suggestiveness,  "  the  canvas  of 
the  Antelope  might  be  stronger.'' 

This  was  a  statement  the  truth  of  which  was 
at  once  felt  and  acknowledged  by  all  the  boys. 

"  Wal,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  "  there  ain't  no  use 
doin  things  up  in  a  hurry  —  not  a  mite.  We've 
got  to  deliberate,  cogitate,  turn  it  all  over  in  our 
minds,  and  be  precious  keerful  how  we  decide. 
There's  a  good  deal  at  stake,  and  this  here  hour 
may  be  a  goin  to  make  or  mar  our  fortius.  I  intend 
to  brood  over  it  this  night,  an  p'aps  by  mornin  I'll 
see  my  way.  The  only  trouble  is,"  he  added,  in  a 
pensive  tone,  "  that  I  don't  quite  know  how  I  can 
ever  see  my  way  to  navigatin  this  here  vessel 
without  sails.^ 

"  Perhaps  we  can  drift  to  some  place,'*  sug- 
gested Phil.    . 

Captain  Corbet  looked  at  Phil  for  a  few  moments 
with  mild  astonishment. 

"  Have  you  ever  tried  driftin,  young  sir  ?  "  he 
asked,  at  length. 


104 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


"  No,"  said  Phil,  "  except  with  you,  in  the  Ante- 
lope." 

"  Yea,  and  in  the  Bay  of  Fundy.  Now,  if  thia 
was  only  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  Fd  feel  at  heme.  In 
that  thar  bay  Fd  ventoor  to  cal'late  the  exact 
point  to  which  this  here  ship  would  drift  But 
this  ain't  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  and,  what's  more,  1 
don't  understand  the  currents  of  these  here  wa- 
ters,—  more's  the  pity,  bein  as  Fm  a  pilgerrim  an 
a  stranger.  As  to  driftin,  why,  we'll  drift,  course, 
as  long  as  we're  aboard ;  but  where  we  may  drift 
to  it  would  take  a  man  with  a  head  as  long  as  a 
horse  to  tell.  Why,  we  might  drift  to  Portygal, 
and  that,  I  think,  wouldn't  quite  meet  the  voos  of 
any  of  us.  Fve  knowed,  or  leastways  I've  heerd 
tell  of  ships  that's  gone  all  the  way  over  to  Porty- 
gal, partly  driftin,  partly  by  the  wind  a  blowin  of 
'em.  But  this  here  ship  I  want  to  indooce  to 
go  to  some  home  port,  —  and  how  to  do  that  is  the 
puzzle  that  now  occoopies  this  bewildered  brain." 
•  With  these  words  the  captain  gently  passed 
away  from  the  group  of  boys,  leaving  them  to  think 
over  and  to  talk  over  this  new  and  exciting  pro- 
ject. It  was  in  conversation  about  this  and  about 
the  message  in  the  bottle,  that  they  occupied  them-  . 
selves  till  bedtime. 

That  night  they  concluded  to  sleep  in  their  old 
quarters  on  board  the  Antelope,  as  the  beds  and 
bedding  in  the  cabin  of  the  Petrel  were  not  dry 
enough  to  satisfy  the  mind  of  Captain  Corbet. 


A    GRAND   BREAKFAST.  105 


«    ■  *■ 


'  1 


VIII.. 

Solomon  in  Ms  Glory.  —  The  Breakfast  a  splendid 
Success.  —  Out  of  Starvation  and  into  the  Land 
of  Plenty.  —  llemoval  of  Lodgings.  —  Tlie  Ques- 
tio7i  of  Salvage.  —  An  important  Debate.  —  To 
go  or  not  to  go.  —  Dropping  Anchor.  —  The  final 
Departure.  —  Corbet  bids  a  fond  Farewell.  — 
Alone  in  the   Water-logged  Ship,  ,  , 

^IffT  was  late  on  the  following  morning  when  they 
fix  awoke.  The  effect  of  fatigue  and  excite- 
ment, together  with  perfect  peace  of  mind,  all 
conspired  to  make  their  sleep  sound  and  refresh- 
ing. Solomon  alone  was  up  early  ;  but  it  was  nine 
o'clock  before  they  sat  down  to  the  sumptuous 
breakfast  which  he  had  prepared  in  the  cabin  of 
the  Petrel.  ,    ;     :       ,  ^,    ,,    ,     v  , 

Solomon  had  found  himself  in  command  of  a  very 
well  appointed  larder,  and  he  showed  no  inclination 
to  spare  it.  He  seemed  to  be  endeavoring  to  make 
amends  for  his  enforced  idleness  of  the  past  few 
days  by  extraordinary  activity  and  fruitfulness  of 
invention  in  the  culinary  department.  There  was 
no  lack  of  anything  which  the  ship  could  supply  ; 


106 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


nay,  there  was  even  more  than  any  of  tlie  boys  had 
expected,  for,  to  the  amazement  of  all,  they  saw  on 
the  table  before  them  several  dishes  of  hot  rolls; 
for  Solomon  had  discovered  among  the  ship's 
stores  some  barrels  of  flour,  and  had  at  once  made 
a  raid  upon  these.  He  laid  before  them  coflee,  tea, 
hot  rolls,  delicious  fish-balls,  broiled  ham,  stewed 
tomatoes,  baked  potatoes,  with  a  variety  of  potted 
meats,  prepared  in  manifold  ways  by  his  skilful 
hand. 

The  breakfast  was  a  splendid  success.  It  made 
all  of  them  more  delighted  than  ever  with  their 
situation.  In  fact,  about  that  situation  there  was 
now  an  air  of  luxury  ;  and  the  first  determination 
of  all  of  them  was  to  move,  bag  and  baggage,  on 
board  the  Petrel,  and  live  there.  Solomon  assured 
them  that  before  the  next  evening  all  the  bedding 
would  be  so  dry  that  the  most  delicate  invalid 
might  sleep  upon  any  one  of  the  mattresses  with- 
out fear.  The  boys,  therefore,  made  their  decision 
at  once.  They  determined  to  take  up  their  lodg- 
ings on  board  the  Petrel,  and  proceeded  to  select 
state-rooms.  As  there  was  some  difference  in  these 
apartments,  they  decided  that  the  fairest  way  would 
I'd  to  draw  lots.  Captain  Corbet  positively  refused 
to  leave  the  Antelope,  and  so  did  Wade ;  so  the 
boys  had  it  all  to  themselves.  Pat  and  Phil  drew 
the  best  room  (the  captain's) ;  Bart  and  Tom  drew 
the  next  best,  which  was  apparently  the  mate's ; 
while  Bruce  and  Arthur  had  the  choice  of  any  one 


f 
t 

( 

1 


" 


NEW  QUARTERS. 


107 


out  of  the  four  remaining  ones.  All,  however, 
were  sufficiently  comfortable  to  satisfy  the  most 
exacting,  and  none  of  the  party  had  any  cause  to 
find  fault  with  the  result.  Then  followed  the  re- 
moval of  their  simple  baggage,  after  which  the 
boys  began  to  *'  fix  up  "  their  respective  state-rooms 
with  as  much  care  and  labor  as  though  they  pro- 
posed spending  the  rest  of  the  summer  on  board. 

These  preparations  did  not  take  up  much  time ; 
and  before  long  they  were  all  out  on  deck  inspect- 
ing the  bedding,  and  examining  how  far  the  vari- 
ous mattresses  were  prepared  for  being  restored  to 
their  places.  But  it  was  decided  to  leave  all  these 
for  the  day,  until  Solomon  should  be  ready  to  make 
the  beds.  '      ■ 

It  was  a  beautiful  day.  The  sky  was  without  a 
cloud,  blue  and  glorious.  The  sun  shone  down 
warmly  and  brilliantly.  There  was  a  gentle  breeze, 
which  tossed  up  the  water  into  wavelets  without 
making  much  motion,  a  breeze  which  was  sufficient 
for  the  tranquil  movement  of  some  pleasure  yacht, 
and  not  strong  enough  to  excite  any  fear.  There 
was  a  freshness  in  the  atmosphere  which  was  most 
exhilarating.  The  air  was  clear-  and  transparent. 
Wide  around  lay  the  waste  of  waters,  upon  which 
not  a  single  sail  was  visible.  .       .  ..r.^- 

Solomon  cleared  away  the  table,  and  then  re- 
lapsed into  the  galley.  The  boys  gathered  into  a 
little  group  upon  the  quarter-deck.  To  them  thus 
assembled  appeared  the  form  of  the  venerable  Cor- 


108 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


bet,  a  smilo  on  his  lips,  a  glance  of  benignity  in  his 
eyes. 

"  It's  all  about  this  here  salvage,"  ho  began, 
somewhat  abruptly.  "You  see,  boys,  I've  ben  a 
thinkin  an  a  dreamin,  asleep  an  awake,  all  night 
long,  an  my  pinion  is  more  an  more  that  we  hadn't 
ort,  none  of  us,  to  lose  this  present  blessed  chance, 
if  we  can  possibly  make  anythin  out  of  it.  I've 
ben  a  cal'latin  the  valoo  of  this  here  ship  an  cargo. 
Now,  this  here  ship  must  have  cost  at  least  fifteen 
thousand  pounds.  Of  course  she  ain't  wuth  that 
much  now,  an  I  can't  tell  what  she  is  wuth  till  I 
know  what  damage  she's  received.  At  any  rate, 
she's  wuth  a  good  deal.  As  for  her  cargo,  why, 
that's  jest  as  good  as  the  day  it  was  put  inside  of 
her.  Timber  ain't  like  grain  or  cotton  ;  it  don't 
spile.  Here,  then,  we  have  a  couple  of  thousand 
tons  or  so  of  fust-rate  white  pine  timber,  wuth  lots 
of  money,  and  we  have  this  ship,  wuth  thousands 
of  pounds.  Why,  boys,  at  the  smallest  cal'lation, 
the  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  this  here  ship  and  cargo 
would  amount  to  over  a  thousand  pounds  apiece 
for  every  one  of  us,  includin  Solomon.  ' 

"  'Tain't  myself  I'm  a  thinkin  on,"  resumed  the 
captain,  after  a  pause,  in  a  tone  of  mild  melancholy, 
and  with  a  pensive  sigh ;  "  'tain't  myself  at  all. 
I'm  old,  sere,  an  yaller.  I  don't  want  money ;  I 
got  ei.ough  for  all  my  needs  and  pupposes.  But 
it's  the  babby,  dear  boys,  the  babby.  That  thar 
infant  is  the  true  cause  of  my  present  wanderin 


[ 


SALVAGE   AGAIN. 


109 


* 


life.  IIo  drives  mo  to  tlio  ocean  w'ave  when  I 
might  bo  toastin  my  shins  in  front  of  my  own 
stove.  I  want  to  airn  somethin  to  leave  to  him 
when  I'm  dead  an  gone.  I  got  tlie  house  an  the 
farm ;  but  I  want  somethin  more  for  the  infant. 
All  my  cares  are  for  him.  I  don't  want  to  leave 
him  to  the  cold  world,  to  sturruggle  an  to  sturrive. 
I  want  to  give  him  a  eddication,  to  make  a  man  of 
him  an  a  scholyer,  a  joy  to  his  parient,  and  an  honor 
to  his  country. 

"  Wal,  now's  the  chance.  Here  we  have  it 
thrown  into  our  very  hands.  We've  got  it,  an  all 
we've  got  to  do  is  to  make  use  of  it.  Here's  this 
here  ship  an  cargo.  If  we  can  only  get  her  into 
some  port,  it'll  be  vvutli  over  a  thousand  pounds 
apiece  to  every  one  of  us,  Solomon  included. 
Each  one  of  you  boys'U  have  enough,  dear  knows, 
to  keep  you  in  pocket-money  all  your  born  days,  or 
to  buy  you  a  fine  schewner  all  to  yourself  Solo- 
mon'U  have  enough  to  raise  him  far  above  the 
humble  attitood  of  a  ship's  cook  ;  an  I  will  have 
enough  to  raise  the  babby  above  want,  an  rair  him 
to  be  a  gentleman  an  a  scholyer." 

Partly  from  the  idea  of  getting  plenty  of  pocket- 
money,  partly  to  help  old  Solomon,  partly  to  assist 
the  respected  Corbet  in  acquiring  the  means  of 
giving  an  "  eddication  "  to  the  "  babby,'^  but  more 
than  all  because  they  were  moved'  by  his  earnest- 
ness, the  boys  universally  chimed  in  with  his 
wishes,  and  urged  him  most  enthusiastically  to  do 


no 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


all  that  he  could  to  save  the  ship.  Captain  Corbet 
listened  with  his  usual  mildness,  and  then  suggest- 
ed that  perhaps  there  might  be  some  sails  stowed 
away  on  board  ;  upon  which  he  at  once  went  off 
to  search  lor  himselfl    -^^    -    v    \    ,  Cii^mr-, 

His  search,  however,  was  not  successful.  One 
sail  was  found,  but  it  was  quite  inadequate  to  tlie 
needs  of  the  ship.  It  really  seemed  to  be,  as  the 
captain  asserted,  that  the  Petrel  had  encountered 
violent  gales,  in  which  her  sails  had  been  lost,  and 
all  her  spare  ones  made  use  of  only  to  be  lost  in 
turn.  Certain  it  was  that,  though  of  other  things 
there  was  no  lack,  of  sails  there  was  a  total  want ; 
and  the  discovery  of  this  reduced  Captain  Corb'^t 
once  m.ore  to  his  former  meditative  mood.     •'  --  ^ 

While  Captain  Corbet  thus  meditated,  the  boys 
talked  over  the  situation.  If  sails  were  wanted,  it 
seemed  to  them  that  the  best  thing  that  could  be 
done  would  be  for  some  one  to  go  and  get  them. 
There  was  wind  enough.  The  Magdalen  Islands 
were  not  far  away,  and  no  doubt  a  sufficient  supply 
could  be  obtained  there.  Some  one  might  remain' 
on  board  the  Petrel.  The  question  then  arose. 
Who  sliould  go  and  who  should  stay  ?  As  to  that 
there  was  no  doubt.  Every  one  of  the  boys  deter- 
mined to  stick  to  the  Petrel  at  all  hazards,  and  thus 
Captain  Corbet  himself  could  go  in  the  Antelope. 

It  was  with  words  to  this  effect  that  Bart  broke 
in  upon  the  musings  of  Captain  Corbet. 

The  captain  listened  to  his  remarks,  and,  though 


I 


AN   IMPORTANT   DEBATE. 


Ill 


he  wag  evidently  struck  by  them,  still  there  arose 
in  his  mind  certain  scruples,  which  under  the  cir- 
cumstances were  very  natural.  .  ., 
'   "  0,  no !  no,  no  I  "  said  he  ;    "  railly,  now,  you 
mustn't  try  to  persuade  me.''              ■  v^ 
.A   "Why  not?"       ■■     -*    •        --         --v"-^   -M;.,.: 

"  0,  it  would  never  do  !  "  ^  m«      v^  - 

.   "Do?    Yes,  it  would.'' 

"  0,  I  couldn't  bring  myself  to  leave  youns  I 
Who  could  tell  what  might  happen  I " 

"Nonsense!  Are  we  babies?  Can't  we  take 
care  of  ourselves  ?  Of  course  we  can  I  We've 
been  in  far  worse  situations  than  tliis.  Think  of 
what  we've  all  gone  through  at  different  times  I 
Think  in  particular  of  Tom  and  Phil,  what  they've 
gone  through !  Are  we  the  fellows  that  could 
meet  with  any  harm  if  you  were  to  leave  us  ?  " 

"Yes,  you  air;  it's  jest  that,"  said  Captain  Cor- 
bet. "  You've  all  got  a  natral-born,  innate  talent 
for  gettin  into  difficulties.  You  don't  catch  me 
lettin  you  go  out  of  my  sight."        "  •  ^' 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  Bart.  "  See  here,  now,  cap- 
tain. There  isn't  and  there  can't  be  the  slightest 
danger.  It's  all  safe.  We'll  be  as  safe  here  as  if  we 
were  on  an  island.  This  ship  can  never  sink. 
Why,  I  know  all  about  these  timber  ships.  My 
father  owned  one  that  got  waterlogged  just  like 
this,  in  the  middle  of  winter,  in  the  Atlantic,  and  in 
the  course  of  several  tremendous  gales  she  was 
blown  over  to  Europe.     Mind  you,  she  couldn't 


I 


112 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


sink.  She  got  into  Liverpool,  and  was  broken  up 
there,  and  her  cargo  was  sold  for  the  benefit  of  the 
underwriters.  Captain  Beyea,  who  commanded 
her,  told  me  all  about  it.  Of  course  at  this  season 
of  the  year  we're  all  right,  for  there's  no  likelihood 
of  any  storms ;  and  besides,  you'll  only  be  gone  a 
few  days." 

Captain  Corbet  did  not  answer  for  some  time. 

"  0,  boys,"  he  said,  at  length,  in  a  hesitating 
way,  <^  if  you  only  could  !     If  I  only  dar'd  !  " 

*'  If  we  only  could  ?  "  said  Bruce.  *'  Why,  cap- 
tain, you  don't  seem  to  know  us  !  You  think  that 
we're  a  parcel  of  helpless  children." 

"  I  only  wish,"  said  Tom,  "  that  1  may  never 
have  anything  worse  to  do  than  to  stay  in  a  place 
like  this  —  a  floating  palace,  where  we  feed  on  the 
fat  of  the  land.  When  I  think  of  lie  Haute,  I  con- 
sider this  a  sort  of  Paradise." 

"  I  think  I  have  known  worse  places,"  said  Phil. 
"  I  could  tell  you  of  a  burning  forest,  in  compari- 
son with  which  every  other  situation  isn't  worth 
being  mentioned.  Why,  boys,  this  is  going  to  be 
a  sort  of  picnic  —  a  pleasure  party." 

"  Captain,"  said  Arthur,  "  we  are  all  settled  here 
now.  Each  of  us  has  his  state-room.  We've  got 
plenty  of  provisions.  We've  made  up  our  minds 
to  spend  a  couple  of  weeks  here  at  least.  So  you 
may  as  well  knock  under.  While  we're  aboard,  it 
will  be  much  better  for  you  to  go  off,  and  try  to 
get  some  sails,  than  to  wander  up  and  down,  mop- 


DEBATE   CONTINUED. 


113 


ing,  day  after  day,  with  the  Antelope  alongside  do- 
ing nothing.'*  *  ; 

"  Sure,  an  it's  meself,"  said  Pat,  "  that  would  be 
willing  to  sail  off  in  the  Antelope  single-handed,  if 
Captain  Corbet  is  afraid,  only  I'll  want  one  man  to 
give  a  hand  in  navigatin,  so  I  will." 

"  0,  two  could  easily  sail  the  Antelope,'*  said 
Bruce. 

"  And  what  shall  Solomon  do  ?  "  asked  Arthur. 

"Do?"  said  Bart.  "Why,  he'll  stay  with  us. 
What  could  we  do  without  Solomon?  We  need 
him  here  more  than  anj^where  else.  Without  him 
our  life  here  would  become  flat  and  insipid.  I 
could  do  the  cooking  once  ;  but  as  a  general  thing, 
I  should  beg  to  be  excused.  Without  Solomon  we 
should  not  be  able  to  eat." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  meditatively. 
"  Thar's  no  trouble  about  me  an  Wade  navigatin 
the  Antelope.  We  don't  want  Solomon.  He'll  be 
best  here  with  youus.  If  I  could  only  leave 
you  —  " 

"  But  that's  already  settled,"  said  Bart,  decisive- 
ly. "  You  are  going  to  leave  us." 
,  "  Wal,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  "  here  we  air,  some- 
whar  nigh  onto  fifty  mile  north  of  the  Magdalen 
Islands.  I  steered  doo  north ;  an  I  don't  think 
we've  made  much  of  a  muve  since  the  calm  began. 
Now,  my  idee  is,  that  if  we  were  to  drop  anchor 
here,  this  here  craft  would  stay  till  I  come  back,  an 
I  know  I  could  find  her  easy." 

8 


114 


PICKED   UP  ADBIFT. 


"Drop  anchor?  Of  course,"  said  Bart.  "I 
didn't  think  of  that.  In  fact,  this  was  my  only 
trouble  —  the  possibility  of  drifting  from  this 
place.  But  if  we  were  to  drop  anchor,  why,  of 
course  it  stands  to  reason  that  we  shouldn't  move 
from  this  place  f  and  so,  of  course,  you  could  find 
us  again,  as  you  say,  without  any  diflSculty." 

"  Her  anchors  air  all  right,"  said  Captain  Corbet. 
"  I've  seen  em.  There's  sixty  fathom  of  chain  if 
there's  an  inch.'^ 

"  Well,  come  now.  We'd  better  drop  anchor  at 
once,"  said  Bart. 

"  You  tempt  me,  boys,"  said  Captain  Corbet, 
with  evident  emotion.  "  You  tempt  me  awful.  I 
feel  as  though  I  hadn't  ought  to  go ;  but  you've 
got  a  kind  of  a  sort  of  a  way  of  puttin  things  that 
makes  it  seem  all  so  safe,  an  pleasant,  an  easy  like 
that  I've  half  a  mind  to  resk  it,  an  go  off  at  all  haz- 
ards. For  there's  so  much  at  stake  !  My  babby  ! 
He  pulls  even  now  at  my  paternal  heart-strings ! 
His  voice,  even  now,  is  a  soundin  in  my  aged  e<ir  I 
*  Father,'  he  seems  to  say,  '  go  off,  an  hurry  up 
with  them  thar  sails.'  An  then,"  continued  the 
captain,  after  a  pause,  "everything  seems  fa,vor- 
able.  The  breeze  is  fair;  the  sea  is  calm;  the  sky 
is  blue ;  an  I'll  only  be  gone  a  couple  of  days  at 
the  farthest.  'Tain't  likely  there'll  be  another 
calm.  The  wind  is  fixir  for  the  Magdalen  Islands. 
There's  provisions  enough  aboard  here  for  months. 
An,  as  you   say,   there  railly  ain't  any  danger. 


DROPPING   ANCHOR. 


115 


h 


I 


You're  quite  right,  Bart.  This  here  ship  can 
never  sink.  Her  timber  cargo'll  keep  her  afloat 
till  dumesday,  an,  what's  more,  it'll  hold  her  to- 
gether. An  I've  so  much  at  stake  I  The  babby  I 
His  fortune  may  now  be  made.  It  needs  only  one 
bold  stroke,  an  all  is  done.  Then  we  have  the  ship 
for  our  own,  an  the  cargo,  an  we'll  sell  em  both,  an 
divide  the  proceeds.  It'll  be  more'n  a  thousand 
pounds  apiece,  an  the  babby'll  be  independent. 
He  can  receive  a  college  eddication ;  he  can  grow 
up  to  be  a  gentleman  an  a  scholyer :  an  he'll  live 
to  bless  the  memory  of  the  aged  parient  who  now 
does  violence  to  his  own  conscience  for  the  sake 
of  the  footer  interests  of  his  offspring.  Yes,  yes, 
it  must  be  done.  An,  boys,  I  rayther  gaess,  on  the 
whole,  that  p'aps  I'd  best  go,  as  you  say." 

The  decision  of  the  captain  thus  announced  was 
received  with  acclamation  by  the  boys,  and  these 
marks  of  approval  served  to  drive  away  the  last 
vestige  of  hesitation  from  Captain  Corbet's  mind. 

"  Wal,"  said  he,  "  if  we're  goin  to  do  it,  we'd 
best  do  it  as  soon  as  possible.  So,  fust  an  fore- 
most, we'd  best  let  go  the  anchor." 

Calling  Wade,  the  captain  then  went  forward, 
followed  by  all  the  boys. 

The  anchor  was  let  go. 

Rattle,  rattle,  rattle  went  chain  and  windlass, 
and  at  length  the  anchor  stopped. 

"  That'll  hold,  I  guess,"  said  the  captain.  "  Now 
you're  bard  an  fast.     Now  I'll  know  where  to  find 


116 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


.  * 


you.  You're  no  longej*  aboard  a  ship.  You're  on 
a  fixed  and  immovable  spot,  —  an  island  of  the  sea, 
—  an  here  you'll  stay  patient  and  quiet  till  I  come 
back." 

These  remarks  the  boys  heard  with  the  utmost 
placidity,  and  accepted  them  as  absolute  fact. 
They  had  flung  themselves  headlong  into  this 
somewhat  dangerous  project,  and  were  now  more 
eager  than  ever  for  its  successful  completion. 

After  letting  go  the  anchor,  the  next  thing  was 
to  prepare  the  Antelope  for  her  trip,  u 

"  We're  out  of  provisions,  boys,  over  there," 
said  the  captain,  "  as  you  rnay,  perhaps,  be  aware, 
an  we'll  have  to  make  a  re-qui-sition  on  you.  We 
don't  want  much;  none  o'  yer  potted  meats  an 
chicken-fixins ;  none  o'  yer  luxoories  an  sweet- 
meats. All  we  want  is  a  modest  supply  of  good 
honest  biscuit,  with  a  little  pork,  a  ham  or  two,  an 
a  pinch  of  sugar,  an  a  drawin  o'  tea.  Wade  an  me, 
we  don't  go  in  for  scientific  cookery ;  we  only  want 
somethin  to  chaw  at  odd  times."  v     •'     vt  f 

They  now  proceeded  to  transfer  to  the  Antelope 
a  sufiicient  supply  of  food.  All  the  boys  lent  a 
hand.  A  dozen  hams,  a  barrel  of  pork,  a  barrel  of 
beef,  and  six  barrels  of  ship  bread  were  put  on 
board  the  schooner,  in  spite  of  the  remonstrances 
of  the  captain,  who  assured  them  that  they  only 
wanted  a  tenth  part  of  all  these  stores.  But  the 
boys  would  not  be  balked  in  their  hospitable 
intentions. 


\ 


..  * 


ALONE  ON  A  WATER-LOGGED   SHIP. 


117 


I 


i 


At  length  the  stores  were  all  on  board  the  Ante- 
lope, and  nothing  more  remained  to  be  done.  The 
last  moment  had  come.  Captain  Corbet  was  deep- 
ly affected,  and  seemed  inclined  to  change  his  mind, 
after  all,  and  stay.  But  the  boys  were  eager  in 
urging  him  off;  So  the  good  captain  allowed  him- 
self to  be  persuaded  against  his  better  reason,  and 
he  and  Wade  got  on  board  the  Antelope,  and  the 
lines  were  cast  off*. 

The  sails  of  the  schooner  were  hoisted,  and  the 
breeze  filled  them,  moving  the  schooner  slowly 
away.         -  ■  .,■?     ■  m  ,:/    ■     ,  rr -''■':■■.. 

Captain  Corbet  stood  at  the  stern  of  the  Ante- 
lope, holding  the  tiller.  His  face  was  turned  to- 
wards the  boys,  who  stood  in  a  group  on  the  quar- 
ter-deck of  the  Petrel.  He  seemed  melancholy 
and  miserable.  .    ,  , ,    , 

.    "  Boys,"  said  he,  in  a  tremulous  voice,  "  dear 
boys,  take  care  of  yourselves."       :^    *.  ,;  ,> 

"  All  right,"  cried  Bart,  cheerily.         v  i  u  r 

The  Antelope  moved  farther  off;  • 

Captain  Corbet  stood  looking  at  the  ship,  and  his 
face  had  an  expression  of  despair.  At  times  he 
called  out  to  them ;  but  the  Antelope  moved  far- 
ther and  farther  off  every  minute,  and  at  length 
his  voice  could  no  longer  be  heard. 

It  was  evening  when  the  Antelope  left.  In 
about  an  hour  she  was  lost  to  view. 

The  boys  were  alone  on  the  ship. 


118  PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


'  >■"■},. 


!    .1 


';.v;.^     .■.'.•...,.     ,1.. 


.) 


']■'■    :  'Will'  ..,:   .  .;,(       ^y.^       I 

'         IX.  '■..■  .•'■-  .   ..    r     ^.. 


Corbet  at  the  Helm.  —  Visions  by  Night.  —  The  Vis- 
ion  of  sudden  WeHth.  —  Over  the  Water's.  —  The 
Ocean  Isles.  —  A  startling  and  uniuelcome  Sight. 

—  Landing  of  Corbet.  —  Corbet  among  the  Moun- 
seers.  —  Unpleasant  Intelligence.  —  An  unwel- 
come Visitor.  —  A  sharp  Inquisition.  —  Corbet  in 
a  Corner. —  The  Answers  of  Guile  and  Simplicity, 

—  Perplexity  of  Cross  examiner. 

HUS  the  Antelope  passed  away  from  the 
eyes  of  the  boys,  and  vanished  into  the 
shades  of  night.  The  breeze  was  h'ght,  and 
Corbet  stood  at  the  helm,  shaping  his  course  for 
the  Magdalen  Islands.  The  first  feeling  of  uneasi- 
ness which  he  had  experienced  on  leaving  the 
boys  in  so  very  peculiar,  perhaps  dangerous,  a  sit- 
uation, had  passed  away  with  the  boys  themselves, 
and  his  thoughts  now  turned  on  other  things. 
He  was  virtually  alone.  Wade,  indeed,  was  on 
board,  but  the  captain  had  sent  liira  below  to  sleep, 
80  that  he  might  be  able  to  relieve  him  and  take 
his  turn  at  midnight. 

Thus  alone  at  the  helm,  Captain  Corbet  looked 


VISIONS  BY   NIGHT. 


119 


out  over  the  silent  sea,  and  np  into  the  starry  sky, 
and  lost  himself  in  peaceful  meditations.  But  his 
thoughts  were  not  concerned  with  sea  or  sky. 
Other  and  dearer  subjects  gave  them  occupation. 
It  was  his  "  babby  "  that  occupied  his  mind  ;  that 
babby  for  whose  sake  he  had  deserted  the  boys, 
and  left  them  alone  in  mid  ocean.  He  was  going 
to  make  a  fortune  for  his  son.  He  was  going  to 
take  measures  for  securing  the  wrecked  ship,  so  as 
to  bring  her  into  some  port,  sell  her,  and  divide 
the  proceeds.  .    ,^    ^. 

Night,  and  solitude,  and  silence  are  ever  the 
best  promoters  of  meditation,  and  Captain  Corbet's 
fancy  was  stimulated  and  quickened  by  his  present 
surroundings.  In  thought  he  went  all  over  the 
Petrel.  He  examined  her  hull ;  he  considered  her 
cargo;  he  made  light  of  her  injuries.  He  con- 
cluded that  a  very  small  sum  might  make  her  once 
more  seaworthy,  and  he  thought  that  fifteen  thou- 
sand pounds  might  be  easily  obtained  for  her. 
Then  as  to  her  cargo ;  that  he  knew  must  be  per- 
fectly free  from  injurj^.  He  tried  to  estimate  the 
number  of  tons ;  then  he  multiplied  these  by  the 
price  per  ton,  so  as  to  get  at  the  value  of  the  en- 
tire cargo.  Then  he  added  this  to  the  value  of 
the  ship,  and  allowed  his  mind  to  play  freely 
around  the  aggregate.  It  was  a  sura  of  ^dazzling 
proportions  —  a  sum  far  greater  than  he  had  been 
able  to  make  after  the  hard  toil  and  persevering 
eiforts  of  many  laborious  years  I     And  all  this  he 


120 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


was  now  about  to  achieve  by  one  stroke.  It  was 
to  be  the  work  of  a  few  days.  It  was  to  be  for  the 
good  of  the  "  babby." 

Here  another  theme  attracted  the  thoughts  of 
the  good  captain,  —  the  fondest  of  all  themes, — 
his  infant  son.  That  son  would  now  have  some- 
thing that  would  approximate  to  wealth.  All  his 
future  would  take  tone  and  flavor  from  this  adven- 
ture. The  father's  best  feelings  were  roused,  and 
in  fancy  he  traced  the  futrre  of  his  beloved  infant. 
He  saw  him  pass  from  long  clothes  into  short 
clothes,  from  frocks  into  jackets,  and  from  jackets 
into  coats.  He  followed  him  in  thought  from  his 
mother's  arms  to  his  own  legs  ;  from  his  home  to 
the  school ;  from  the  school  to  the  college.  He 
watched  him  consume  the  midnight  oil  for  years, 
until  he  at  length  reached  the  brilliant  end  of  his 
educational  goal.  Then  he  portrayed  before  his 
mind  the  form  of  his  son  in  the  future,  —  now  at 
the  bar  pleading,  or  on  the  bench  judging  ;  now  at 
the  bedside  of  the  sick ;  now  in  the  pulpit  preach- 
ing. He  listened  to  the  sermon  of  the  imaginary 
preacher,  and  found  himself  moved  to  tears. 

"Dear,  dear!"  he  murmured  to  himself;  "I'd 
no  idee  the  little  feller'd  be  so  eliquint.  It  does 
beat  all^  railly." 

Captain  Corbet  was  really  like  one  who  had 
taken  intoxicating  liquor,  or  opium ;  and,  in  fact, 
he  was  intoxicated,  but  the  stimulus  was  no  drink 
or  drug ;  it  was  merely  his  fancy,  which  had  be- 


.  \ 


VISIONS   OF  WEALTH. 


121 


come  heated  by  the  extravagant  dream  of  sudden 
wealth.  Gold  produces  its  own  fevers  and  deh'r- 
iums ;  and  the  good  captain  had  been  seized  by 
one  of  these.  Yet,  after  all,  let  it  be  remembered 
that  his  avarice  was  not  for  himself,  but  for  his 
child.  And  as  the  lone  navigator  stood  at  his  post 
under  the  midnight  sky,  in  solitude  and  daiVness, 
heaping  up  those  bright  fancies,  out  of  whicn  he 
was  rearing  so  stupendous  a  ca^le  in  the  air,  he 
was  building,  all  the  while,  not  for  himself,  but  for 
another. 

-  Had  he  left  the  boys  under  any  other  circum- 
stances,—  that  is,  supposing  that  he  had  been  capa- 
ble of  so  leaving  them,  —  there  is  no  doubt  that  he 
would  have  been  a  prey  to  the  most  harassing 
anxiety  on  their  account,  and  would  hav«  passed  a 
wakeful  night,  full  of  mental  distress.  But  now 
these  new  thoughts  so  occupied  him  that  there 
was  no  place  for  anxiety,  and  he  went  on  towards 
the  accomplishment  of  his  purpose  as  resolutely  as 
though  he  had  left  them  all  in  the  safest  and  pleas- 
antest  place  in  the  world.  ?     .   .    t 

Yet  the  situation  in  which  they  were  left  was 
one  which  might  have  created  anxiety  in  the  breast 
of  even  a  more  unfeeling  man  than  Captain  Corbet 

—  on  board  a  wrecked  ship,  that  lay  there  in  mid 
sea,  w^ith  no  means  of  saving  themselves  in  the 
event  of  disaster.  It  was  calm  now,  but  how  long 
would  the  calm  continue  ?  This  breeze,  that  was 
wafting  him  along  so  gently  and  pleasantly,  might 


122 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


\ 


stifTen,  and  strongtlien,  and  intensify  itself  into  a 
gale;  and  how  would  the  gale  act  upon  a  ship  that 
was  virtually  under  water?  Where  could  the  boys 
betake  themselves  for  refuge?  How  could  they 
avoid  the  sweep  of  the  surges  that  a  rising  storm 
would  pour  over  her  decks?  Where  could  they 
find  security  from  the  downfall  of  the  masts,  which, 
in  the  writhing  and  twisting  ship,  must  inevitably 
fall.  A  storm  might  change  their  foothold  into  a 
waste  of  boiling  foam,  and  make  the  masts  above 
as  dangerous  as  the  sea  below.  Even  a  moderate 
wind  and  a  very  ordinary  rising  of  the  sea  might 
make  their  situation  one  of  peril.  Of  this  the  boys, 
in  their  inexperience,  had  taken  no  thought ;  but 
this  was  the  very  thing  that  Captain  Corbet  ought 
to  have  tlM)ught  of,  and  this  was  the  thing  that  he 
was  destined  to  think  of  afterwards  with  anguish 
of  soul.  But,  for  the  present,  not  a  thought  of  this 
sort  came  to  him.  His  mind  was  altogether  given 
up  to  th-e  sway  of  those  exciting  and  alluring  fan- 
cies which  beckoned  him  away  to  imaginary 
wealth.  .  /;:    r^.  i     .; 


,1^1  ,:,:-,< 


>l. 


Captain  Corbet  had  arranged  to  call  Wade  at 
midnight ;  but  so  excited  was  he  by  his  dreams  and 
speculations  that  he  took  no  note  of  time,  and  was 
at  length  startled  by  the  coming  of  the  dawn. 
Then  he  hurried  away,  sent  Wade  to  the  helm,  and 
flung  himself  into  his  berth. 

After  a  long  and  profound  sleep,  which  was  the 
natural  consequence  of  the  excitement  of  the  pre- 


THE  FAWN. 


123 


vious  night,  he  awaked.  To  liis  surprise  he  found 
that  it  was  about  eleven  o'clock. 

He  cast  a  hasty  look  around. 

His  first  feeling  was  one  of  satisfaction.  There, 
immediately  in  front  of  him,  were  the  Magdalen 
Islands.  His  course  had  been  sufficiently  accurate 
to  bring  him  to  his  destination.  Ho  was  near 
enough  now  to  cast  anchor,  and  Wade  was  already 
moving  forward  with  tliat  intent.  ■    ^ 

But  in  that  first  look  that  he  had  given  he  no- 
ticed another  tiling,  for  which  he  was  not  prepared, 
and  which  detracted  somewhat  from  the  satisfaction 
that  had  been  caused  by  the  sight  of  the  islands. 

He  saw  a  schooner  at  anchor.    -       >  i-'   '■; 

The  beautiful  outline,  the  slender,  tapering 
masts,  the  white  spars,  and  the  immaculate  neat- 
ness that  characterized  this  schooner^j.  all  told  hira 
plainly  what  she  was,  and  he  needed  no  closer  in- 
spection to  feel  sure  that  it  was  the  Fawn. 

Now,  the  sight  of  the  Fawn  disturbed  the  mind 
of  the  venerable  captain.  ^^     v-^^v  >?'; 

He  dreaded  a  meeting  with  her  skipper,  Captain 
Tobias  Ferguson.  '"  •   -'    ' 

The  Petrel  was  a  prize  for  those  who  might  be 
her  salvors.  "  To  that  fortunate  situation  he  did  not 
wish  to  admit  any  others.  He  wished  merely  to 
procure  sails,  and  then  navigate  her  somehow  with 
the  help  that  he  already  had.  He  knew  well,  and 
he  dreaded,  the  keen  inquisitiveness  and  the  ac- 
tive, restless  energy  of  Captain  Tobias  Ferguson. 


124 


PICKED   UP   AFRIFT. 


He  did  not  want  to  meet  v  ith  him  at  all.  In  fact, 
the  very  last  person  in  all  the  world  that  he  would 
have  chosen  to  meet  with  at  this  particular  time 
was  this  very  man. 

So  great  was  his  dread  of  a  meeting,  which 
might  ruin  all  his  plans,  that  his  first  impulse  was 
to  fly.  He  cast  a  hasty  look  all  around.  Upon  the 
beach  he  saw  the  boat  of  the  Fawn.  Evidently  the 
skipper  was  ashore.  Upon  this  discovery  he  at 
once  acted,  and  determined  to  move  farther  away. 
Hastily  checking  Wade,  who  was  in  the  act  of 
dropping  the  anchor,  Captain  Corbet  wore  round, 
and  continued  on  his  former  course  for  a  mile  or 
so.  Then,  rounding  the  extremity  of  the  island, 
he  kept  on  his  way  along  the  shore,  anxiously  con- 
sidering what  was  best  to  be  done. 

There  were  other  islands  in  the  group,  but  this 
was  the  one  which  he  wished  to  v  isit,  for  here  only 
could  he  hope  to  find  anything  like  sails.  He  had 
come  here  for  this  purpose,  and  to  go  away  with- 
out accomplishing  it  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  It 
now  seemed  to  him  that  the  best  thing  for  him  to 
do,  under  the  circumstances,  v;ould  be  to  land  here, 
and  pursue  his  investigations  in  a  c  uiet  way  about 
the  island,  managing  so  as  to  avoid  all  contact  with 
Captain  Ferguson.  He  therefore  dropped  anchor 
here,  and,  taking  Wade  with  him,  he  went  ashore. 

Once  on  shore,  he  went  about  his  search  with 
the  utmost  diligence,  going  from  house  to  house, 
and  making  inquiries  about  sails.    But  from  the 


CORBET  ASHORE. 


125 


first  his  task  was  a  most  discouraging  one.  Every 
one  assured  him  that  there  were  no  spare  sails  on 
the  island  ;  all  the  schooners  were  away,  and  what- 
ever stock  any  one  had  he  generally  kept  in  his 
schooner,  and  took  it  with  him.  This  was  the  in-  ' 
formation  that  he  got  from  every  one  to  whom  he 
applied.  -  . . .  :         :  ^ 

For  hour  after  hour  Captain  Corbet  kept  up  his 
fruitless  search,  dodging  about  cautiously,  so  as  to 
avoid  being  seen  by  Captain  Ferguson,  in  case  he 
might  be  ashore,  and  keeping  a  wary  lookout.  At 
length  he  had  visited  every  house  on  the  island  of 
any  consequence.  The  only  thing  that  they  could 
suggest  was  for  him  to  go  to  Miramichi,  where  ho 
would  be  likely  to  obtain  what  he  wanted.    * 

Captain  Corbet,  in  deep  dejection,  now  retraced 
his  steps  to  the  boat.  He  thought  for  a  time  of 
applying  to  Ferguson.  But  a  moment's  reflections 
made  him  give  up  that  idea.  He  knew  that  Fer- 
guson would  be  full  of  curiosity ;  that  he  would 
ask  him  all  about  the  boys ;  and  he  feared  that  if 
he  got  the  slightest  hint  of  the  facts  of  the  case,  he 
might  start  off  instantly  for  the  wreck,  and  thereby 
forestall  him.  It  does  not  follow  that  Ferguson 
would  really  have  done  this ;  but  this  was  Captain 
Corbet's  belief,  and  it  influenced  him,  of  course, 
precisely  as  if  the  belief  had  been  well  founded. 

Having  thus  dismissed  the  idea  of  appealing  to 
Ferguson,  it  remained  for  him  to  decide  what  next 
to  do.    He  did  not  think  of  going  back.     Better  to 


BH 


126 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


take  Ferguson  into  his  confidence  at  once.  He 
still  clung  to  his  first  hope  and  his  first  plan,  and, 
since  Miramichi  was  the  nearest  place  where  he 
could  rely  upon  finding  sails,  he  began  to  think 
about  going  there.  True,  this  would  take  up  two 
or  three  days  more,  and  the  boys  would  be  left  to 
themselves  all  that  time ;  but,  aj  he  had  already 
accustomed  himself  to  think  of  them  in  their  pres- 
ent position  as  quite  safe,  he  was  able  to  entertain 
the  thought  of  leaving  them  this  way  still  longer. 
He  had  committed  himself  too  deeply  to  his  plan, 
he  had  gone  too  far  towards  its  execution,  and  he 
had  built  too  largely  upon  its  successful  accom- 
plishment, to  be  willing  to  give  it  up  just  yet. 

And  so  by  the  time  he  reached  the  boat  he  had 
about  made  up  his  mind  to  start  off  for  Miramichi 
at  once.  With  this  resolve  he  went  back  to  the 
schooner.  , 

The  moment  that  he  stepped  on  deck  he  was  as- 
tonished at  detecting  in  the  atmosphere  the  smell 
of  cigar  smoke  ;  and  while  he  was  yet  standing, 
with  open  mouth  and  expanded  nostrils,  inhaling 
the  unwelcome  odor,  he  was  still  more  unpleasantly 
surprised  at  seeing  a  figure  emerge  from  the  cabin, 
in  whom  at  one  glance  he  recognized  the  well- 
known  and  particularly  dreaded  lineaments  of  Cap- 
tain Tobias  Ferguson. 

His  unwelcome  visitor  held  out  his  hand,  and 
wrung  that  of  Captain  Corbet  with  affectionate  cor- 
diality. 


A  SHARP   INQUISITION. 


127 


"  Didn't  expect  to  see  you  back  again  in  these 
parts  so  soon.  You  must  have  made  a  fine  run  of 
it,  too.  How  far  did  you  go?  Not  to  the  Bay  of 
Islands  —  hey  ?  Why,  there's  been  a  reg'Iar  old- 
fashioned  calm  about  here,  and  this  here  wind  ain't 
much  to  speak  of.  And  how  are  my  young  friends, 
the  ragamuffins  ?  "  '  ^  • 

"  Wal  —  pooty  tollable,'*  said  Captain  Corbet,  in 
a  faint  voice. 

*'  Hra  —  glad  to  hear  it.  And  where  was  it,  did 
you  say,  that  you  went  to  ?  "  . .«  .   >  . 

,<  "0  —  a  —  kine   o'  —  genral    sort   o'  kerrewsj 

like."  ■   ■■^-       ^    -^-  ,.•     .'-:■.:    V      ,.  .:■    .^u:-. 

"  Hm  —  and  so  you  left  them  in  the  Bay  of 
Islands?"  ■' 

"  Wal  —  n  — ^  n  —  no  —  'twan't  exactly  there- 
abouts." 

<<  O  —  not  Anticosti  ?  " 

"Wal — n  —  no,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  with  an 
increasing  sense  of  discomfort.  i    '/ 

"Ah,  St.  Pierre?"    ^     -   ^  -      ;  ■  i- i^-::y  « 

"N  —  n  —  n  —  not  exactly."       *  _ ,  ;  • 

"  St.  Paul's,  then  ?  " 

«  Wal  —  'twan't  St.  Paul's,  nuther." 

"  O,  a  kind  o'  general  cruise,  I  see  ;  young  ad- 
venturers, and  all  that.  But  I'm  glad  you  took  my 
advice,  and  didn't  go  to  Anticosti.  A  bad  place. 
And  how  do  they  like  Newfoundland  ?  " 

"  Wal  —  they  —  didn't  —  quite  git  to  Newfound- 
land, nuther,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  in  a  low,  faint, 
hesitating,  confused  way. 


128 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


"  No,  of  course  not,"  said  Ferguson,  briskly. 
"  Too  I'ar  away  ;  I  said  so.  You  concluded  to  go 
to  Gaspe,  of  course." 

"  Wal  —  n  —  n  —  n  —  no,  we  didn't  quite  get  — 
off —  in  that  thar  —  de  —  rection,"  replied  Captain 
Corbet,  who  was  utterly  at  a  loss  how  to  fight  off 
this  eager  and  inquisitive  questioner.  Had  the 
good  captain  been  capable  of  tc^Uing  a  lie,  his  task 
would  have  been  easier;  but  he  was  a  truthful 
man,  and  in  this  case  he  hardly  knew  what  to  do. 

"  Well,  come  now,"  said  Ferguson,  "  where  did 
you  go?"  ,. 

Captain  Corbet  started  at  this  point  blank  ques- 
tion, and  was  perfectly  dumb.  ,      . 

Ferguson  looked  at  him  with  keen  scrutiny,  and 
then  said,  — 

"  You  don't  answer.  What's  the  matter  ?  Has 
anything  happened  ?     Where  are  the  boys  ?  " 

Again  the  unfortunate  Corbet  was  unable  to 
answer. 

"  It's  a  plain  question  enough,"  said  Ferguson, 
"  and  you've  gro^  to  answer  it  somehow — for  I'm 
going  down  Nova  Scotia  way,  and  may  see  some 
of  their  parents.  So,  own  up,  old  man.  What  have 
you  done  with  the  boys  ?  " 

At  this  moment  a  happy  thought  occurred  to 
the  bewildered  Corbet.  It  came  like  a  ray  of  light 
in  deep  darkness. 

"  Wal,"  said  he,  "you  see,  capting  —  you  know 
—  them    thar  youngsters,  you    know  —  they  — 


r: 


'^ 


u 


CORBET^S   CONFUSION. 


129 


they've  —  got  up  a  kine  o'  secret  society  —  you 
know  —  they  told  you  —  themselveg  —  you  know 

—  and  they're  all  together  —  you  know  —  and  it's 
a  matter  —  of  importance  —  to  them  —  and  to  me 

—  to  —  to  —  to  —  to  keep  the  secret,  you  know. 
O,  I  do  assure  you  it's  all  right  —  they're  all  safe 
an  sound  —  an  enjyin  life  ;  good  quarters,  plenty 
to  eat  an  drink,  an  ole  Solomon  a  doin  of  the 
cookin  —  but  it's  a  great  secret,  you  know  —  and 
so  —  you  see  —  capting  —  the  fact  is  —  I'd  a 
leetle   rayther    not    let    on    where    they   air    jest 


?j 


now. 

Captain  Corbet  spoke  this  in  a  confused  way, 
and  in  a  mild,  deprecatory  manner.  Ferguson  lis- 
tened attentively  to  his  words,  and  then  stood  look- 
ing at  him  for  some  time  with  an  air  of  dissatis- 
faction. 

"Well  —  old  man,"  said  he,  "I  do  remember 
some  nonsense  of  theirs  about  a  secret  society ; 
but  you  haven't  answered  my  question  ;  you  evade 
it;  and  what  their  secret  society  has  to  do  with 
their  present  situation  I  don't  quite  begin  to  make 
out.  The  fact  is,  I  don't  consider  you  a  fit  guar- 
dian for  such  boys  as  they  are,  and  my  opinion  all 
along  has  been  that  they'll  all  get  into  mischief. 
I'm  afraid  that  they're  in  some  fix  at  this  particu- 
lar moment,  and  that  you  have  left  them  at  the 
very  time  that  you  ought  to  be  standin  by  them. 
If  you  don't  choose  to  tell  me,  I  can't  make  you  — 
only  I  warn  you,  if  the  boys  air  in  a  fix  it's^best 
9 


130 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


to  let  me  know,  for  I  can  go  and  help  them  sooner 
and  better  than  yon  can." 

"O,  but  railly,  now — now — railly,  capting," 
said  Corbet,  with  great  earnestness,  "  I  do  assure 
yon,  honest  and  honor  bright,  there  ain't  no  diffi- 
culty about  tlie  boys.  They're  all  rail  happy  — 
tip-top,  an  no  mistake ;  as  lively  as  crickets ;  lots 
to  eat  an  drink,  comfortable  beds,  good  cookery  — 
all  in  good  spirits  and  a  enjyin  of  themselves  in  a 
way  that  would  do  your  heart  good  to  see." 

^•'  Well  —  but  where  are  they  ?  "  persisted  Fer- 
guson. 

"  Wal  —  now  —  railly  —  you  know,"  said  Cap- 
tain Corbet,  "  it's  a  kine  o'  secret  —  an  I'd  very- 
much  rather  not  tell  —  that  is  —  not  jest  now ;  now 
railly  —  don't  ask  me." 

Ferguson  looked  at  him  for  a  few  moments  with 
the  same  scrutinizing  look  that  he  had  already 
turned  upon  him. 

"  Where  are  you  going  now  ? "  he  asked  at 
length;  "back  to  the  boys?"  ,         ^  /;  : 

"  Wal  —  not  Jest  yet,"  answered  Corbet,  after  a 
pause.  "  The  fact  is,  I  was  thinkin  a  little  of  takin 
a  turn  over  Miramichi  way  —  on  business.  I  won't 
belong,  and  they'll  be  all  right  till  I  get  back  from 
Miramichi.'^ 

"  O,  the  boj's'U  have  to  wait  for  you,  in  the 
place  where  they  now  are,  till  you  get  back  from 
Miramichi  —  so  that's  it." 

Ferguson  spoke'these  words  slowly  and  deliber- 


CORBET  SUCCUMBS. 


131 


ately,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  Captain  Corbet.  The 
latter  looked  somewhat  uncomfortable,  and  for 
a  while  said  nothing;  but  at  length  he  mur- 
mured,  — 

''  Wal  —  I  s'pose  —  that^s  —  about  —  it.'' 


,<v 


t-'; 


•-'■a 


%■ 


::vi5-'<HU 


•>^'';-«-^y^*r« 


:4t 


;,-■'*"■ 


132 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


k 


X. 


The  Baffled  Inquisitor.  —  CorheVs  Fliglit  hy  Niglit 

—  Dead  RecJconing.  —  His  Purpose  accomplished. 

—  Once  more  an  t.nwelcome  Visitor.  —  The  loarn- 
ing  Words.  —  Co  'bet  confident.  —  "  Right  straight 
hack.''^ — Tlie  stormy  Water.  —  The  gloomy  Night 
and  the  gloorrler  Day.  —  Where  is  the  Petrel  ?  — 
Despair  of  Corbet. 

yINDING-  that  Captain  Corbet  was  obstinate 
in  his  refusal  to  tell  him  about  the  boys, 
Ferguson  at  length  desisted  from  his  in- 
quiries, and  departed  from  the  Antelope,  much  to 
the  relief  of  the  commander  of  that  vessel.  But, 
though  he  had  left  the  Antelope,  he  had  by  no 
means  given  up  his  investigations  into  the  cause 
of  her  present  voyage.  He  at  once  rowed  to  the 
shore,  with  the  intention  of  finding  out  from  the 
people  there  what  had  been  Corbet's  business 
among  them.    ;  ,.    .    . 

This  he  had  no  difficulty  whatever  in  finding 
out.  Corbet  had  come  there  with  only  one  pur- 
pose, and  this  he  had  made  known  to  every  one 
with  whom  he  came  in  contact,  as  best  he  could. 


THE  BAFFLED    INQUISITOR. 


133 


He  had  picked  up  a  man  who  spoke  English,  and 
this  man  had  accompanied  him  in  his  rounds  as 
interpreter.  This  very  man  fell  into  Ferguson's 
way,  and  from  liim  Ferguson  was  able  to  learn  that 
Captain  Corbet's  sole  aim  in  visiting  the  Magdalen 
Islands  was  to  obtain  some  sails.  He  learned  that 
the  sails  could  not  be  obtained,  and  also  that  they 
had  recommended  him  to  go  to  Miramichi ,  for 
them.  By  this  he  understood  the  reason  why 
Captain  Corbet  was  going  to  that  place. 

Now,  Ferguson  had  taken  a  great  fancy  to  the 
boys;  but  the  opinion  which  he  had  formed  of 
Captain  Corbet  and  the  Antelope  was  of  a  very 
different  kind.  That  opinion  he  had  been  at  no 
pains  to  conceal.  He  liad,  in  fact,  expressed  it 
freely  and  frequently.  He  had  called  Captain  Cor- 
bet an  "  old  woman,"  and  the  Antelope  "  a  tub." 
This  opinion  he  still  cherished.  Moreover,  he  had 
prophesied  solemnly  that  the  boys  were  more  likely 
than  not  to  land  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea  before 
their  voyage  was  over,  and  this  prophec}-  he  still 
believed  in.  In  fact,  the  strong  regard  that  he 
had  conceived  for  these  boys  made  him  feel  uneasy 
about  them,  and  he  did  not  like  to  think  of  them 
sailing  about  these  seas  with  such  a  vessel  and  such 
a  commander.  The  sudden  appearance  of  the  Ante- 
lope had  excited  his  apprehensions.  He  had  seen 
her  come  in  while  he  was  ashore.  He  had  noticed 
her  manoeuvres.  He  had  watched  her  as  she 
rounded  to  and  then  stood  off  again.    He  had  then 


134 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


■ 


I* 


gone  in  his  boat  to  watch  licr,  and  had  seen  her 
anclior.  He  had  -seen  Captain  Corbet  go  ashore 
with  Wade.  lie  had  then  rowed  to  lier,  boarded 
her,  and  examined  her.  The  result  of  this  exami- 
nation was  anything  but  satisfactory.  He  couhi 
not  see  any  signs  of  the  boys.  All  their  luggage 
was  gone.  What  had  become  of  them  was  his  first 
thought,  and  he  liad  waited  for  the  return  of 
Captain  Corbet  in  deep  uneasiness.  That  uneasi- 
ness had  only  been  increased  when  the  captain 
returned  ai'd  answered  his  questions  in  so  evasive 
a  manner. 

He  had  not  been  prepared  for  this ;  the  eva- 
sive answers  of  Captain  Corbet  irritated  him,  and 
awakened  his  suspicions.  The  secrecy  which  he 
threw  around  the  movements  of  the  boys  was 
in  the  highest  degree  annoying.  He  had  come 
hoping  to  find  them  on  board.  Their  absence  had 
filled  him  with  uneasiness.  In  this  state  of  uneasi- 
ness he  had  waited  on  board  for  hours,  fidgeting 
and  fuming ;  and  the  end  of  it  all  was,  that  when 
Captain  Corbet  did  appear,  he  refused  to  answer 
the  simplest  questions.  -  "  '    " 

There  were  several  things  that  troubled  and 
perplexed  him  to  an  unusual  and  a  most  unpleasant 
degree. 

First.  What  had  become  of  the  boys  ?  Captain 
Corbet  would  not  say.  Ha  had  asked  about  every 
place  in  which  it  was  possible  that  they  could  be, 
and  had  been  told,  most  positively,  that  they  were 


PERPLEXITY   OF    FERCJUSON. 


135 


not  there.  Anticosti,  Bay  uf  Islands,  Newfound- 
land, St.  Pierre,  St.  Paul's,  Gaspe,  all  the  coasts 
surrounding  the  gulf  lie  had  asked  after,  and  he 
had  heen  told  that  they  were  in  none  of  them. 
Where,  then,  could  they  he  ?  Such  secrecy  puzzled 
and  irritated  him.  Captain  Corbet's  story  about 
tiie  secret  society  did  not  deceive  him  for  one 
instant.  He  saw  through  it  all.  He  saw  that 
Captain  Corbet,  though  incapable  of  telling  a  false- 
hood, was  yet  willing  to  mislead,  or  tc  put  him  on 
a  false  track ;  but,  for  his  part,  he  was  not  the  man 
who  could  be  easily  misled  or  baflled. 

Then  came  the  discovery  which  he  had  made  of 
the  purpose  which  Captain  Corbet  had  in  visiting 
the  Magdalen  Islands.  He  had  come  for  sails. 
Sails  I  What  did  he  want  of  sails  ?  What  absurd 
project  had  he  formed  ?  And  what  had  his  search 
for  sails  to  do  with  the  absence  of  the  boys  ?  Yet, 
so  great  w^as  Captain  Corbet's  desire  to  obtain 
sails,  that  he  was  going  to  Miramichi  for  that  very 
purpose. 

Then,  again,  Ferguson  could  not  forget  the  way 
in  which  Captain  Corbet  had  come  to  the  Magdalen 
Islands.  He  had  come  —  he  had  appeared  for  a 
moment,  as  if  about  to  anchor,  but  then  had  turned 
away,  and  sailed  elsewhere.  The  whole  manoeuvre 
had  looked  exactly  like  a  wish  to  avoid  the  Fawn, 
and  it  might  have  been  successful,  had  he  not  pur- 
sued so  closely.  Captain  Corbet's  appearance  also, 
when  he  first  came  on  the  deck  of  the  Antelope, 


136 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


and  found  himself  confronted  by  liis  visitor,  his 
start,  his  look  of  surprise,  his  confusion,  his  hesita- 
tion,—  all  these  things  made  him  seem  the  more 
open  to  suspicion. 

Suspicion  I 

And  of  what  ? 

Now,  Ferguson  did  not  for  a  moment  believe 
Captain  Corbet  capable  of  wrong.  In  fact,  he 
looked  upon  him  as  an  imbecile.  Yet,  even  from 
that  point  of  view,  his  uneasiness  about  the  boys 
was  none  the  less.  These  boys,  under  the  care  of 
an  imbecile,  seemed  to  liim  to  be  in  as  great  peril 
as  though  their  guardian  had  been  a  criminal. 
Where  were  they  now?  Had  the  folly  or  the 
imbecility  of  their  captain  drawn  them  into  some 
position  of  danger  ?  They  were  innocent  and  in- 
experienced ;  he  was  an  imbecile ;  all  were  alike 
unprepared  to  encounter  the  dangers  that  might 
befall  them ;  and  from  all  these  causes  combined, 
the  boys  might  now  be  in  a  position  of  very  serious 
danger,  while  this  incapable  guardian  was  idly 
roaming  the  seas.  '"  ' 

The  more  he  thought  of  all  these  things,  the 
more  uneasy  he  felt ;  until,  at  length,  his  fears 
about  the  safety  of  the  boys,  who  had  sc  suddenly 
aw^akened  his  interest,  grew  so  strong,  that  he 
determined  to  keep  Captain  Corbet  in  sight.  Be-' 
lieving  that  they  w^ere  in  some  situation  of  possible 
danger,  into  which  they  had  been  drawn  by  their 
own   ignorance  and   Captain  Corbet's   imbecility, 


corbet'3  flight  by  night. 


137 


and  in  wliicli  tlioy  wero  nov  left,  Ferguson  felt 
an  intolerable  anxiety,  and  so  at  length  came  to 
the  conclusion  to  follow  the  Antelope,  until  some 
light  should  be  thrown  upon  this  mystery. 

Meanwhile,  Captain  Corbet,  having  got  rid  of 
his  troublesome  visitor,  waited  patiently  until  the 
boat  had  rounded  the  projecting  promontory  of  the 
island,  and  then  proceeded  to  continue  his  voyage. 
He  had  already  made  up  his  mind  to  go  to  Mirami- 
chi,  and  this  visit  of  Ferguson,  together  with  his 
sharp  inquiries,  f\ir  from  changing  his  purpose,  had 
only  served  to  intensify  it.  He  only  waited  until 
the  boat  which  contained  his  dreaded  visitor  was 
out  of  sight,  in  order  to  hurry  his  departure.  Ac- 
cordingly the  anchor  was  weighed  in  the  utmost 
haste,  the  sails  hoisted,  and  soon  the  Antelope  set 
forth  on  a  fresh  cruise.  The  wind  was  still  light, 
yet  sufficient  for  liis  purpose ;  and  he  directed  his 
course  around  the  island,  so  as  to  avoid,  as  far  as 
possible,  being  seen  by  Ferguson.  His  knowledge 
of  these  waters  was  not  very  minute,  yet  it  was 
sufficient  to  give  him  a  general  idea  of  his  destimi- 
tion,  and  he  steered  the  Antelope  accordingly. 

Evening  came,  and' the  Antelope  continued  on 
her  course.  All  night  long  she  traversed  the 
waters,  and  on  the  following  day  approached  the 
New  Brunswick  coast.  Here  Captain  Corbet  rec- 
ognized the  entrance  to  the  Bay  de  Chaleur,  and, 
turning  southward,  he  sailed  along  the  coast  to- 
wards the  Miramichi  River.     As  he  went  on,  he 


138 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


noticed  a  sail  some  miles  away ;  but  to  this  he 
paid  no  attention.  It  was  a  common  enough  thing 
in  these  waters,  and  there  was  no  reason  why  he 
should  notice  it  particularly.  The  sail  remained 
in  sight  all  thai  day;  and  at  length,  as  he  entered 
the  Miramichi  River  and  sailed  up  it,  the  fact  that 
this  stranger  was  following  did  not  excite  any  at- 
tention on  his  part. 

Three  large  towns  lie  on  the  Miramichi  River, — 
Chathu:n,  Douglastown,  and  Newcastle.  Of  these, 
two  are  a  few  miles  from  the  mouth,  on  opposite 
sides  of  the  stream  —  Chatham  and  Douglastown; 
and  the  three  towns  form  together  the  centre  of  a 
great  trade  in  ship-building,  and  in  the  exportation 
of  deals  and  timber.  Here  may  be  found  all  that 
appertains  to  the  outfit  of  a  ship,  and  here  Captain 
Corbet  expected  to  procure  what  he  wanted. 

It  was  evening  when  the  Antelope  dropped 
anchor  in  the  river  opposite  Chatham.  It  was 
then  too  late  to  do  anything;  so  Captain  Corbet 
had  to  postpone  his  business  until  the  following 
day.  Pleased  with  his  prosperous  voyage,  and 
pleased  still  more  with  the  easyVay  in  which  he 
had  got  rid  of  Ferguson,  full  of  hope  also  in  the 
successful  completion  of  his  business,  he  retired  to 
bed  that  night,  and  slept  placidly  and  profoundly. 
The  wind  that  night  arose, and  blew  hard;  but  the 
venerable  captain,  sunk  in  slumber,  and  surrounded 
by  the  river  shores,  heard  nothing  of  the  noise  of 
the   storm.     Had   he  been  out  at  sea,  he  would 


CORBET'S  PURPOSE  ACCOMPLISHED. 


139 


doubtless  have  thought  of  the  boys  in  the  distant 
sliip ;  but  here  in  tlie  placid  river  there  was  nothing 
to  mar  his  repose.  ^ 

On  the  following  morning  Captain  Corbet  went 
ashore  at  Chatham,  and  began  a  search  after  the 
sails.  The  search  took  up  some  time,  but  at  length 
he  succeeded  in  finding  what  he  wanted.  He 
found  some  sails  and  rigging  that  had  been  taken 
from  a  condemned  ship,  and  were  held  for  sale. 
They  had  not  been  considered  good  enough  for  a 
ship's  outfit,  and  had  not  only  been  torn  and  rent 
by  storms,  but  also,  from  having  been  kept  in  a 
damp  warehouse,  they  were  somewdiat  mildewed. 
Still  they  served  Captain  Corbet's  purpose  as  well 
as  brand  new  ones  could  have  done,  and,  in  fact, 
even  better,  for  their  damaged  condition  enabled 
him  to  obtain  them  at  a  price  which  was  com- 
mensurate with  his  means.  It  took  some  time  to 
get  these  all  stowed  away  properly  in  the  Antelope  ; 
but  at  length  the  work  was  satisfactorily  accom- 
plished, and  Captain  Corbet  emerged  from  the 
hold,  and  ascended  upon  deck,  with  a  smile  of 
serene  satisfaction,  and  the  peaceful  consciousness 
that  this  had  been  a  well-spent  day. 

Thus,  with  this  smile  of  serenity  and  this  tranquil 
breast  did  our  good  Captain  Corbet  emerge  from 
the  hold  and  ascend  to  the  deck  of  the  Antelope. 
Scarcely,  however,  had  he  set  foot  thereon,  scarcely 
had  he  taken  one  look  around,  than  the  smile  on  his 
face  faded  away  utterly,  and  the  tranquillity  of  his 
soul  was  abruptly  ended. 


^ 


140  PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 

For  there,  full  before  him,  seated  calmly  on  the 
rail,  with  a  piece  of  soft  pine  stick  in  one  hand, 
and  a  keen  jackknife  in  the  other,  with  a  cigar  in 
his  mouth,  and  a  pleasant  glance  in  his  eye,  —  there 
sat  the  dreaded  Ferguson,  the  very  man  whom 
Captain  Corbet  most  feared  to  see,  and  whom  he 
believed  to  be  far  away  at  the  Magdalen  Islands. 

Captain  Corbet  stood  rooted  to  the  spot.  His 
jaw  dropped.     He  was  paralyzed. 

''  You  made  a  nice  run,"  said  Ferguson.  "  A 
snug  place  this." 

Captain  Corbet  did  not  answer.  He  was  too 
confused. 

*'  I  see  you  got  your  sails.  I  s'pose  you  didn't 
hLcVe  any  trouble." 

These  words  increased  the  dismay  of  Captain 
Corbet.  He  thought  that  this  would  be  a  profound 
secret.  Ferguson  now  showed  that  he  knew  it. 
He  must  have  found  out  about  this  at  the  Magdalen 
Islands.  Whether  he  knew  any  more  or  not,  was 
a  troublesome  problem.  Captain  Corbet  did  not 
see  how  he  could  possibly  know  any  more,  and 
yet  Ferguson  had  such  a  knowing  look,  that  he 
would  not  have  been  surprised  at  learning  that  he 
knew  all. 

"  I  see  you've  got  your  sails,"  said  Ferguson, 
as  Captain  Corbet  did  not  answer. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other,  in  a  melancholy  tone,  and 
with  a  resigned  look. 

"  It's  pretty  difficult  to  get  hold  of  things  of 


AN  UNWELCOME  VISITOR. 


141 


that  sort  in  these  parts,  and  you  were  lucky 
enougli  to  get  them  so  easy.  They'll  do  for 
your  purpose,  I  s'pose." 

"  0,  yes,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  "  they'll  do  — well 
enough  —  considerin  ;  just  as  well  as  if  they  was 


new. 


V 


''  I  s'pose  you're  going  right  back  from  this  ?  '^ 

"  Right  back  ?  "  repeated  Captain  Corbet. 

"  Yes ;  you  don't  intend  to  go  dawdling  about 
any  longer  —  do  you  ?  " 

"0,  no." 

"  And  you're  going  right  straight  back  ?  "  - 

<'0,  yes." 

"  And  when  I  say  right  straight  back,"  continued 
Ferguson,  "  I  mean,  of  course,  right  straight  back 
to  the  boys.  It's  only  the  boys  I  consider.  I  feel 
anxious  about  them.  I  consider  myself  in  some 
sort,  just  now,  as  responsible  for  their  rescue,  or, 
at  any  rate,  for  their  safety ;  and,  old  man,  let  me 
warn  you  solemnly  to  be  careful  what  you're  about. 
Don't  you  go  flitting  about  any  longer  in  this 
style.  Go  you  right  straight  back  to  where  those 
boys  are  ;   if  you  don't,  there'll  be  trouble." 

The  tone  of  Ferguson  was  earnest  and  anxious. 
Captain  Corbet  looked  distressed. 

"  0,  railly,  now,"  he  said :  "  see  here  now ;  railly 
I  do  assure  you,  sir,  the  boys  are  all  right,  and  all 
happy  —  plenty  to  eat,  good  quarters,  and  old  Solo- 
mon to  cook  for  them  and  make  their  beds.  Why, 
you  don't  suppose  I'm  made  of  iron,  or  that  I'd 


142 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


have  the  heart  to  leave  them  in  any  place  except 
where  they  would  be  safe  ?  " 

"  I  don't  believe  you'd  leave  them  in  any  place 
that  you  might  think  dangerous,  of  course  ;  but 
the  trouble  is,  you  might  leave  them  somewhere, 
not  knowing  it  to  be  dangerous,  while  all  the  time 
it  would  be  very  dangerous  indeed.  Have  you 
sailed  much    about  these  waters  ?  '^ 

"  Wal  —  n  —  no,  not  to  say  much." 

"  Well,  I  have  ;  and  let  me  tell  you,  it  won't  do 
to  trust  to  your  judgment  where  such  precious 
things  are  concerned  as  the  lives  of  those  boys. 
I  felt  afraid,  when  I  first  saw  the  Antelope  without 
the  boys,  that  they  had  fallen  into  some  difficulty 
through  your  ignorance  or  carelessness,  and  the 
moment  I  spoke  to  you  about  it,  I  felt  convinced 
of  it.  It  has  worried  me  ever  since.  I  took  for 
granted  that  you  were  going  back  from  the  Mag- 
dalen Islands,  and  had  no  idea  that  you  would 
venture  so  far  away  from  them  as  this.  When  I 
learned  your  object,  and  saw  where  you  were 
heading,  1  followed  you  on  purpose  to  say  what  I 
now  say ;  and  that  is,  Go  back,  go  back,  old  man, 
go  back  to  the  boys.  I  feel  sure  that  they  are  in 
danger." 

"  But  ain't  I  going  to  go  back  ?  "  cried  Captain 
Corbet,  with  as  much  vexation  in  iiis  tone  as  Could 
be  showed  by  one  of  so  amiable  a  nature. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Wal,  I  am,  then,  —  thar." 


CORBET'S   ASSUMED   CONFIDENCE. 


143 


"Now?"     ■  '  ■  /'  -.-  ■'•.^■v-u: ;::■., -,..,,,., 

"Yes;  right  away." 

"That's  right,"  said  Ferguson,  standing  np  and 
getting  over  the  side  of  the  Antelope  into  his  own 
boat ;  "  and  one  word  more  :  don't  you  deh\y.  Pile 
on  all  the  sail  this  old  tub'll  carry,  and  get  back  to 
those  boys  as  soon  as  you  can." 

"  0,  you  needn't  be  a  mite  afeard,"  said  Captain 
Corbet,  in  a  confident  tone.  "  Them  thar  boys 
are  jest  as  safe  as  you  and  me.  They're  not  only 
safe,  but  comfortable ;  yes,  comfortable,  and  jolly, 
and  lively,  and  happy,  and  safe,  and  sound.  All 
right."  ■  *^ 

"  Well,  well ;  I  only  hope  it  may  turn  out  so,"  said 
Ferguson ;  and  with  these  words  he  rowed  away. 

Captain  Corbet  had  spoken  these  last  words  in  a 
very  confident  tone ;  but,  in  spite  of  this,  he  was 
by  no  means  so  confident  as  he  seemed.  In  spite 
of  himself,  the  warning  words  of  Ferguson  had 
sunk  deep  into  his  soul,  and  roused  very  deep 
anxiety.  Now,  too,  that  the  great  purpose  of  his 
voyage  had  been  achieved,  and  the  sails  were 
actually  lying  stowed  away  in  the  hold,  he  had 
leisure  to  think  of  those  boys,  and  of  the  situation 
in  which  he  had  left  them.  He  had  left  them  far 
longer  than  he  had  intended.  He  had  been  gone 
now  three  days.  It  might  take  two  days  to  get 
back,  and  in  case  of  a  calm,  it  might  take  far 
longer.  The  thought  of  this  filled  him  with 
uneasiness. 


144 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


Ferguson  liimself,  had  he  been  on  board,  would 
have  commended  the  activity  with  which  captain 
and  mate  now  proceeded  to  hoist  anchor  and  sail. 
In   a  very  short   time   the   Antelope   was   under 

way.    ,  •'    . 

Captain  Corbet's  uneasiness  grew  greater.  The 
warnings  of  Ferguson  started  up  in  his  mind,  and 
joined  themselves  to  his  recollections  of  tlie  ship. 
He  remembered  how  unwilling  he  had  been  to 
leave  them,  and  how  they  had  overpersuaded  him. 
He  began  to  lament  that  he  had  ever  gone  away. 
The  vision  of  sudden  wealth  had  lost  all  its  charm, 
and  no  longer  dazzleu  his  mind.  -"'^  . 

At  length  he  passed  out  of  the  river  into  the 
gulf.  Ever  since  he  had  started,  the  wind  had 
been  blowing  more  and  more,  and  at  length,  on 
reaching  the  open  sea,  it  was  quite  a  gale.  All 
around  the  waves  tossed  up  their  white  caps,  and 
the  clouds  scudded  across  the  sky.  This  only 
increased  the  anxiety  of  the  captain,  and  as  he 
looked  out  upon  the  waste  of  waters,  he  trembled 
for  the  safety  of  those  who  were  so  helpless  in 
that  half-sunken  ship.  How  would  they  endure 
this?  For  this  he  had  not  been  prepared.  He 
could  not  forgive  himself. 

All  that  night  he  sailed  on,  full  of  grief  and 
terror.     The  wind  increased  ;  the  sea  rose  higher. 

The  next  day  came,  and  wind  and  sea  were  yet 
high.  The  progress  of  the  Antelope  was  very 
good,  and  towards  evening  Captain  Corbet  reckoned 


NO  SIGN   OP  THE  PETREL. 


145 


that  he  must  bo  approaching  the  place  where  the 
Petrel  lay.  j 

But  the  shades  of  night  came  down,  and  nothing 
was  visible.  For  a  few  hours  Captain  Corbet 
sailed  on,  and  at  length  lay  to.  This  must  be  the 
place,  according  to  his  calculations ;  and  on  the 
following  morning  he  hoped  to  see  the  tall  masts 
of  the  wrecked  ship. 

The  next  morning  came. 

All  that  night  Captain  Corbet  had  paced  the 
deck  in  sleepless  misery.  With  the  first  beam  of 
dawn  his  eyes  sought  the  horizon,  and  as  the 
day  grew  brighter,  he  still  sought  eagerly  in  all 
directions. 

In  vain. 

The  sun  rose.     It  was  broad  day. 

But  upon  the  face  of  the  waters  there  was  not  a 
sign  of  the  Petrel. 

Only  one  sail  was  visible,  and  that  was  a  schooner 
far  away  to  the  west. 

Captain  Corbet  stood  terror-struck,  and  looked  all 
around  with  a  face  of  despair. 

10  :....^. 


146 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


'M.     r--' 


XI. 


i'fO 

, 

•..  *■ ' 

[•'■'-..iVil 

1 

r 

'  ■    1 

.  ■  (' 


The  water-logged  Ship.  —  Alone  upon  the  Waters.  — 
Jolly  under  creditable  Circumstances.  —  Old  Sol- 
omon's  queer  Fancies.  —  He  dreads  his  Persecutor, 
—  He  prefers  the  Life  of  Crusoe.  —  Follow  my 
Leader.  —  Swimming  in  deep  Waters.  —  An  im- 
portant Meeting.  —  Debates.  —  Parties  formed.  — 
Molassesites  and  Sugarites.  —  Desperate  Struggle 
of  Phily  and  melancholy  Besult. 

HE  night  after  Captain  Corbet  left  was  spent 
by  the  boys  without  any  incident  of  an  unu- 
sual character.  At  first,  when  they  felt  them- 
sleves  thus  cut  off  from  all  chance  of  leaving  the 
vessel,  there  came  over  every  one  a  singular  sense 
of  loneliness,  together  with  an  exhilarating  feeling 
of  independence.  Their  situation  seemed  to  them 
like  that  of  shipwrecked  mariners  on  a  desert 
island,  and  they  all  found  the  part  of  Robinson 
Crusoe  a  very  pleasant  one,  under  the  circum- 
stances. Their  lodgings  were  excellent,  their  pro- 
visions varied  and  abundant;  they  had  a  cook  who 
was  master  of  his  art;  and  they  looked  for  the 
return  of  the  Antelope  within  twenty-four  hours. 


ALONE   UPON   THE  WATERS, 


147 


Captain  Corbet  had  laid  stress  upon  this ;  and  the 
only  conditions  upon  which  ho  consented  to  tear 
himself  away  from  them  had  been,  that  he  would 
not  go  farther  than  the  Magdalen  Islands.  For  he 
had  fully  counted  on  obtaining  there  what  he 
needed,  and  had  not  made  any  calculations  with 
reference  to  a  failure. 

That  first  evening,  then,  the  boys  were  in  high 
spirits,  and  interchanged  many  jocular  remarks 
about  their  situation.  Solomon  expressed  more 
than  usual  gratification,  and  seemed  to  have  a 
serene  self-satisfaction,  which  was  extraordinary 
in  him.  As  the  shades  of  night  descended  he 
began  to  illuminate  the  cabin.  He  had  found  some 
oil,  and  had  filled  the  lamp  which  hung  immediately 
under  the  skylight.  It  was  a  large  one,  with  four 
argand  burners,  and  threw  a  brilliant  lustre  over 
the  scene.  Beneath  this  bright  glow  the  boys  sat 
at  the  evening  repast,  spread  by  the  hands  of 
Solomon,  where  they  found  the  usual  variety  of 
dishes,  and  also  not  a  few  of  quite  a  novel  and 
original  character.  To  play  the  part  of  Robinson 
Crusoe  under  such  circumstances  as  these  was 
not  at  all  unpleasant. 

Among  all  the  boys,  then,  there  prevailed  a  spirit 
of  joyousness,  and  old  Solomon's  mood  was  cer- 
tainly not  out  of  accord  with  that  of  his  young  com- 
panions. For  Bart  found  him  alone  in  his  solitary 
galley,  rubbing  his  thighs  in  fron'  ^f  a  roasting 
fire,  and  chuckling  audibly  to  himself. 


148 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


"  Tell  yo  what,  Massa  Bart,"  was  his  exclamation 
as  he  looked  up  at  his  smiling  visitor,  "  dis  yer 
am  high  ole  times,  an  no  mistake  ;  dis  yer  ole  nig- 
ger habn't  felt  so  happy  an  habn't  had  sich  a 
strornary  feelin  of  skewrity,  ebber  since  he  was 
your  age.  Let  dat  dar  Ant'lope  keep  way's  long 
ebber  she  kin.  I  don  want  to  see  her  again.  I 
want  to  take  up  my  bode  in  dis  yer  galley,  and 
bid  farewell  to  ebery  feah,  an  wipe  my  weepin 
eyes." 

"  Well,  that's  a  curious  fancy  too,"  said  Bart,  in 
some  surprise.  "  You  don't  mean  to  say  that 
you'd  like  to  live  here."        ■  '  .;t 

"  Would  so ;  dat  dar's  jest  wat  I  mean,  an  it's 
wat'd  zactly  suit  dis  yer  ole  man,  an  no  mistake 
now  —  would  so." 

"Well,"  said  Bart,  sympathetically,  "it's  not  a 
bad  place  just  now,  as  long  as  the  weather's  fine, 
though  how  it  might  be  in  case  of  a  blow,  I  con- 
fess 1  have  my  suspicions."    '  *'       - 

"  0,  you  nebber  mind  de  blow.  Dar's  blows 
dat  are  a  heap  wuss  dan  de  wind.  How  would 
you  like  blows  on  yer  head,  an  backbone,  an  ribs, 
from  a  broomstick,  or  a  shobbel,  or  a  stick  ob  cord- 
wood,  or  a  red-hot  iron  poker  ?  Dem's  blows  as  is 
blows,  mind  I  tell  you  I  Tell  you  what,  when  you 
come  to  git  blows,  like  dat  ar,  you'll  begin  to  hab  a 
realizin  sense  ob  what  blows  is  possible  for  to  be." 

"  Why,  Solomon,  how  very  feelingly  you  speak  I " 

"  Feelinly  I  Ony  wait  till  you've  felt  ober  your 
head  an  shoulders  what  she's  giben  me." 


OLD  SOLOMON. 


149 


nation 
is  yer 
le  nig- 
jich  a 
e  was 
J  long 
,in.  I 
r,  and 
reepin 

art,  in 
f   tliat 

:\  ■■■    * 

an  it's 
listake 

not  a 
s  fine, 
I  con- 
blows 
would 
1  ribs, 
cord- 
as  is 
n  you 
hab  a 
o  be." 
eak  I " 
•  your 


"She?   Who?"     •''-''  f.^pr.tt, 

Solomon  gave  a  groan. 

"  You    know    her.      You  —  saw  her    at    Loch 

Lomond."  '•;.       ■.        ;j'J"ii       •        "1:'J 

"What,  your  wife  I  0,  I  understand;"  and  a 
light  began  to  dawn  upon  Bart.  ■'^'   ''>»i 

Solomon  shuddered.  The  remembrance  waa 
too  much  for  him. 

"  Dis  yer's  do  fust  time  I've  felt  real  safe  for 
ebber  so  long ;  and  here  I  am  real  safe.  She  can't 
git  at  me  here  no  how.  She  can't  imagine  where 
I  am  no  how."      .  -  '         c   '  ;' 

"  Pooh  !  nonsense,  Solomon  I  Haven't  you  been 
safe  enough  ever  since  you  left  St.  John  ?  " 

"  No,  sah !  Safe  I  Why,  dar's  not  a  moment  ob 
de  day  dat  I  don't  fancy  dat  ar  woman's  arter  me 
—  on  my  back.  I  knows  it.  Tell  you  what,  she's 
a  comin  to  fetch  me.  I  knows  it.  I  feel  it  in  my 
bones,  and  dat  ar's  a  feelin  dat's  wuss  dan  de 
rheumatics.     'Tis  so  !  "     -^  !•  ::>i'>^  * 

"  But  what  a  rdiculous  fancy ! "  said  Bart. 
"  Do  you  really  mean  to  say  that  you  believe  she 
will  come  after  you  ?  " 

"  Do  so.  No  doubt  bout  dat  ar,  Mas^r  Bart. 
She's  a  comin  jest  as  shuah's  you're  born.  An  I 
habn't  felt  real  safe  till  now.     Here  I'm  all  right." 

"  But  suppose  she  does  come?" 

"  Wal,  s'pposin." 

"  What  can  she  do  to  you  ?  " 

"Do!     Lots  ob  tings.    She  can  come  and  lib 


150 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


whar  I  lib,  an  hamma  away  all  day  an  all  night  on 
my  olo  head  wid  broomsticks  an  pokers.'' 
"  But  what  makes  you  let  her  ?  "     *       ' "  ' 
"  Let  her  ?     Wat  can  1  do  bout  it  ?  "      ':'^'  ''  '^''^' 
"  Why,  the  law'll  protect  you."         " '  '■''  '^'-^  "'^« 
"  De  law  sakes,  chile  I     Don't  you  know  de  law 
can't  'tect  husbands  agin  wives  ?     It'll  only  'tect 
wives  agin  husbands.     My  pinion  is,  dat  de  law's 
clean  in  fabor  ob  de  women,  an  de  men  hain't  got 
no  chance  —  not  a  mite." 

At  this  new  view  of  the  law  Bart  was  somewhat 

nonplussed.      '  '         •     ''^  ^An?^'m» 

"  0,  well,"  said  he,  "  I  don't  believe  she'll  ever 

trouble  you  again.     You'll  go  back  to  the  academy, 

and  Dr.  Porter'll  take  care  of  you." 

Solomon  shook  his  head.  '  ''      '    -.^i-'^t*'' 

"  Tell  you  what,"  said  he ;  "  fifty  millium  Docta 
Porta's  couldn't  do  anythin  agin  dat  ar  woman  if 
she  come  to  fetch  me.  De  'cadmy  ain't  no  place 
for  me.  Don't  think  you'll  eber  catch  me  back  dar. 
Ise  boun  to  be  a  rober ;  an  I'll  sail  de  sea,  so  as  to 
prebent  her  from  eber  a  gittin  on  my  track.*" 

"  O,  nonsense  !  "  said  Bart.  "  You'll  come  with 
us,  and  it'll  be  all  right." 

Solomon  shook  his  head,  and  relapsed  into 
silence. 

And  now  it  became  time  to  prepare  for  bed. 
Solomon  had  already  ai  ranged  the  state-rooms  and 
made  the  beds.  Thanks  to  their  assiduous  care, 
the  rooms  and  the  bedding  were  all  quite  dry  and 
very  inviting. 


SOLOMON'S  MEDITATIONS. 


151 


It  was  a  beautiful  night.  There  was  a  gentle 
breeze,  which  made  a  slight  ripple  on  the  water, 
but  there  was  not  enough  to  raise  a  sea.  There 
was  a  slight  motion  on  the  ship,  as  she  slowly  rose 
and  fell  to  the  long  and  gentle  undulations ;  but 
the  motion  was  scarcely  perceptible,  and  certainly 
did  not  interfere  in  the  slightest  degree  with  the 
comfort  of  those  on  board.  It  was  about  ten 
o'clock  when  they  retired  for  the  night.  They 
went  to  the  different  rooms  which  had  fallen  to 
their  lot.  The  excitement  of  the  day  and  of  the 
evening,  the  long  fatigues,  together  with  the  ex- 
haustion arising  from  former  privations,  all  con- 
spired to  make  their  sleep  this  night  very  pro- 
found as  well  as  very  refreshing.  Solomon  sat  till 
midnight  toasting  his  shins  in  front  of  the  galley 
fire,  and  meditating  about  the  strange  vicissitudes 
of  life  wliich  had  brought  across  his  path  that 
being  whom  he  so  justly  feared.  But  Solomon's 
thoughts  gradually  became  intermingled  with  the 
confused  fancies  of  the  land  of  Nod  ;  and  at  length 
awaking  with  a  start,  he  rubbed  his  sleepy  eyes, 
and  carried  his  aged  frame  somewhere  'Mbr'ard." 

None  of  the  party  awoke  until  late  on  the  fol- 
lowing day.  Then,  on  opening  their  eyes,  their 
nostrils  were  greeted  with  savory  odors  that  were 
wafted  from  the  cabin,  which  served  to  show  them 
that  Solomon,  at  least,  had  not  overslept  himself, 
but  tliat  he  was  up  and  doing,  and  that  he  had  pre- 
pared everything  that  might  be  needed  to  fortify 


152 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


them  for  the  cares  and  trials  of  a  new  day.  For 
the. savory  odors  that  were  wafted  to  their  nostrils 
were  multifarious,  and  among  them  each  boy,  be- 
fore he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  rise,  and  while  he 
was  still  enjoying  that  luxurious  doze  that  follows 
the  awakening  from  sleep,  could  have  enumerated, 
had  he  felt  inclined,  the  strong,  rich  aroma  of  cof- 
fee, the  pungent  odor  of  broiled  ham,  the  gentler 
steam  of  distilling  tea,  the  appetizing  atmosphere 
shed  forth  from  hot  rolls,  together  with  a  confused 
medley  of  others  equally  attractive,  though  less 
definable.     '!  .  ••       "  '■  ■' '*''^- 

A  rush  upon  deck  to  breathe  the  glorious  air, 
and  to  look  upon  the  scene  round,  followed.  The 
view  was  most  enlivening.  Far  and  wide  around 
them  extended  the  deep  blue  water,  whereon  not 
a  sail  was  visible.  Overhead  hung  the  azure  vault 
of  heaven,  with  not  a  cloud  in  all  its  wide  expanse. 
The  wind  was  light,  and  blew  at  intervals,  nor  had 
it  increased  since  the  night  before.  They  took 
their  morning  bath  on  deck  in  the  cool,  refreshing 
salt  water,  dipped  out  fresh  from  the  sea.  Pat  im- 
proved on  this,  for  he  undressed  himself  again, 
and  plunged  into  the  sea,  where  he  swam  about, 
and  called  on  the  others  to  follow.  His  example 
was  infectious,  and  soon  the  whole  party  were 
floundering  and  gamboling  in  the  water,  like  a 
shoal  of  porpoises,  beside  the  ship. 

The  bath  was  a  most  refreshing  one,  and  added 
to  the  zest  with  which  they  attacked  their  break- 


*L-,...„.         L 


FOLLOW   MY  LEADER. 


153 


Linple 
were 


dded 
reak- 


fast.  When,  at  length,  this  repast  was  finished, 
they  once  more  came  forth  to  the  deck  like  giants 
refreshed,  and  began  to  make  plans  for  passing  the 
time.  For  their  active  young  natures,  filled  to 
overflowing  with  animal  spirits,  some  lively  exer- 
cise was  needed.  This  they  found  in  an  exploring 
tour  among  the  rigging.  Bart  went  first,  and  then 
the  others.  Each  one  tried  to  venture  farther  than 
the  others.  Thus  it  soon  became  a  game  —  the 
well-known  one  often  played  at  sea  in  fine  weather 
called  "  follow  my  leader."      •         •:   .;;       -   v 

Bart's  training  in  a  seaport  town  gave  him  an 
advantage  over  the  others,  even  though  some  of 
them  were  stronger,  and  others  more  active  than 
he.  But  he  had  all  through  his  boyhood  been 
familiar  with  ships,  and  had  ventured  time  and 
again  to  every  part.  There  was  no  height  so  dizzy 
but  that  he  had  sought  it  out  and  familiarized  him- 
self with  it.  Bart,  therefore,  on  the  present  occa- 
sion easily  surpassed  the  others  in  feats  of  daring, 
and  ventured  where  none  of  the  others  could  fol- 
low. Singularly  enough,  it  was  Phil  who  came 
nearest  to  him.  His  light,  lithe,  slender,  yet 
sinewy  frame  made  him  as  nimble  as  a  kitten  in 
the  rigging,  and  if  he  had  only  had  Bart's  practice 
and  familiarity,  he  would  have  decidedly  surpassed 
liim.  Phil  came  near  enough  to  Bart  to  elicit  the 
admiration  and  the  applause  of  all.  Next  to  Phil 
came  Pat,  who  was  very  sinewy  and  'active. 
Bruce  and  Arthur  were  about  equal,  while  Tom, 


154 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


who,  though  very  strong,  was  somewhat  slow  and 
a  little  awkward,  lingered  in  the  rear.  This  excit- 
ing sport  served  to  occupy  several  of  the  hours  of 
that  summer  morning.  •   .»  ; 

But  at  length  they  had  exhausted  the  utmost 
resources  of  even  so  fascinating  a  game  as  "  follow 
my  leader,"  and  they  once  more  came  down  to  the 
common  level  of  every-day  life,  when  they  pro- 
ceeded to  debate  the  great  question  what  next  to 
do.  A  swim  about  the  ship  served  to  settle  this 
question  until  dinner  time,  after  Avhich  the  impor- 
tant subject  of  dinner,  remained  under  discussion 
long  enough  to  consume  a  few  more  hours. 

After  dinner  none  of  them  felt  very  much  in- 
clined to  take  any  active  exertion,  and  they  di^- 
tri4>uted  themselves  about  in  various  ways.  At 
length  Bart  suggested  a  regatta,  which  was  at 
once  adopted.  Not  having  books  to  read,  or  any- 
thing else  in  particular  to  attend  to,  it  was  not 
surprising  that  they  should  take  with  much  excite- 
ment to  a  sport  which,  though  perhaps  decidedly 
childish,  is  yet  not  without  its  attractions  to  the 
unoccupied  mind.  The  plan  was  for  each  boy  to 
make  a  boat,  put  it  over  the  side,  and  see  which 
one  of  the  little  fleet  would  beat.  These  boats 
w  ire  at  first  made  of  paper.  But  paper  was  soon 
Ibund  inadequate,  and  wood  was  resorted  to. 
These  wooden  boats  were  long  and  sharp,  and 
sailed  with  a  speed  which  excited  the  warmest 
interest.     At  length  Bart  proposed  a  new  kind. 


PARTIES   FORMED. 


155 


Finding  a  piece  of  iron  hoop,  he  broke  it  into  sliort 
fragments,  and  sticking  this  underneath  a  wooden 
boat,  so  that  it  might  act  as  balhist,  keel,  and  rud- 
der all  in  one,  he  produced  a  little  vessel  that 
would  sail  with  the  wind  abeam,  and  carry  an  as- 
tonishing, amount  of  canvas.  Soon  a  fleet  of  these 
little  vessels  was  formed,  and  the  regatta  went  on 
with  fresh  excitement. 

At  length  a  bright  thought  struck  Phil,  which, 
on  being  suggested  to  the  other  boys,  at  once 
caused  all  interest  in  the  regatta  to  be  eclipsed  by 
the  stronger  attraction  of  this  new  idea. 

It  was  nothing  less  than  to  make  candy,    '  - 

About  this  there  was  a  double  attraccion,  for, 
first,  the  candy  was  of  value  in  itself,  and  second- 
ly, the  process  of  cooking  it  would  afford  an  occu- 
pation at  once  charming  and  exciting,      ^^'i 

There  was  sugar  on  board,  both  brown  and 
white,  and  also-  molasses.  The  choice  among  these 
was  the  subject  of  a  prolonged  debate  ;  but  at 
length,  on  being  put  to  the  vote,  it  was  found  that 
the  Molassesites  were  in  a  triumphant  majority. 
Upon  this  the  White  Sugarites  and  the  Brgwn 
Sugarites  waved  their  objections,  and  the  vote 
became  a  unanimous  one. 

Another  debate  took  place  upon  the  appointment 
of  a  cook,  which  was  terminated  by  a  resolve  to 
ballot  for  one.  The  result  of  the  balloting  was  the 
unanimous  election  of  Phil  to  that  important  and 
responsible   post.     This   was   nothing    more  than 


156 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


was  right,  and  it  was  a  handsome  tribute  to  Phil 
for  being  the  originator  of  the  whole  scheme. 
Pliil,  on  being  informed  of  his  election,  responded 
in  a  neat  speech,  which  was  greeted  with  loud 

applause.  J    .n;'^   /:   .;.Hii     .' ;.  •'   .     J>  .,i 


f)' 


V        .IIUU    i^J 


A  motion  was  then  made  that  a  deputation  be 
sent  to  Solomon,  requesting  him  to  vacate  the 
cook's  galley  for  a  few  hours,  so  that  the  new  pur- 
pose of  the  assembly  might  be  carried  into  suc- 
cessful accomplishment.  This  motion  was  carried, 
and  the  deputation  was  chosen  by  ballot.  The 
deputies  were  Bart,  chairman,  Bruce,  Arthur, 
Tom,  and  Pat.       '         "  -  ^   -^^  >'^ 

Upon  the  departure  of  these  on  their  mission, 
the  whole  assemblage  consisted  of  Phil.  Though 
alone,  he  contrived  to  represent  the  assemblage 
with  as  much  dignity  as  possible,  for  he  laid  him- 
self down  flat  on  the  deck,  and  distributed  his 
arms  and  legs  in  all  directions,  so  that  he  might 
occupy  as  much  space  as  possible.  •'* 

The  deputation  at  length  returned,  and  an- 
nounced to  the  assembly  that  their  mission  had 
been  successful,  and  that  Solomon  had  kindly  con- 
sented to  give  up  to  them  the  cook's  galley  for  the 
required  time  and  purpose. 

Upon  this  the  assembly  moved,  seconded,  and 
carried  unanimously  a  resolution  that  the  report 
of  the  deputation  be  adopted. 

Upon  this  an  adjournment  took  place  sine  diCj 
and  the  meeting  retired  to  the  scene  of  labor. 


STRUGGLE  OP  PHIL. 


157 


About  a  gallon  of  molasses  was  procured.  This 
was  poured  into  an  iron  pot,  and  Phil  stationed 
himself  at  his  post  in  the  galley.  The  lire  was 
supplied  with  fresh  fuel,  and  soon  the  liquid  began 
to  boil.  Phil  stirred  away  like  a  good  fellow,  and 
the  liquid  began  to  froth  up.  Phil  tried  to  keep  it 
down,  so  that  it  might  not  boil  over.  For  some 
time  there  was  a  desperate  struggle  between  Phil 
and  the  molasses.  The  boys  stood  crowding 
around,  watching  that  struggle  with  intense  in- 
terest and  keen  excitement.  None  of  them  offered 
to  make  a  suggestion,  for  it  was  felt  that  any  offer 
of  advice  would  be  derogatory  to  the  dignity  of 
Phil's  office.  '  '■  '   ' .     -r  .5   i. 

So  the  struggle  went  on. 

It  grew  fiercer  and  fiercer  every  moment. 

Now  the  molasses  rose  up  in  wrath  and  fury, 
and  seemed  about  to  rush  forth  from  its  iron 
prison.  ^>i  •>.-'»   .v.-    ..•■!■:!   '■-■^;^,   'jk  ,'-  ..  k-a 

Now  Phil,  summoning  all  his  energy,  dealt  a 
series  of  destructive  blows  at  his  furious  enemy, 
and  laid  him  low  for  a  time. 

So  went  the  struggle.  Now  the  molasses  gained, 
now  Phil. 

But  all  the  time  the  molasses  was  increasing  in 
fury. 

The  boys  stood  about.  They  formed  ^he'^selves 
into  two  parties,  one  embracing  the  •  auso  of  the 
molasses,  the  other  that  of  Phil.  Cheer  a^cer  cheer 
arose  as  one  or  the  other  saw  its  cause  in  the 
ascendant. 


i 


158 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


Phil  grew  weaker  and  fainter. 

At  length  he  tried  to  make  a  flank  attack,  and 
tore  open  the  stove  doors  so  as  to  lessen  the 
draught. 


The  movement  failed. 


■  7.' 


-:,). 


Scarce  had  he  torn  open  the  doors  than  the  mo- 
lasses, rising  in  its  wrath,  rushed  forth,  streamed 
over,  and  poured  out  in  resistless  strength,  driving 
Phil  himself  back  from  the  clouds  of  hot  steam 
that  arose. 

Phil  fled  vanquished  from  the  galley.      <  'ot   • .".' 

The  molasses  had  conquered  I  .  •  {  It-*    , 

"Wild  cheers  arose  from  the  Molassesites. 

At  length,  when  the  smoke  and  steam  had  sub- 
sided, Phil  ventured  back.  There  was  a  boiling, 
foaming  mass  still  in  the  pot ;  but  on  lifting  it  off 
the  stove,  and  allowing  it  to  subside  for  a  moment, 
it  was  found  that  not  more  than  a  quart  was  left. 

"  Sure,  an  here's  some  lovely  flavorin  I  found," 
said  Pat,  "  in  the  pantry.  It'll  make  a  good  flavor- 
in  to  the  candy,  so  it  will." 

He  held  forth  a  small  vial  to  Phil,  which  was 
labelled, —  / 

Extract  of  Lemon, 

Phil  thought  it  would  be  an  improvement,  and 
80  poured  the  whole  contents  of  the  vial  into  the 
boiling  molasses. 

His  task  was  soon  over,  and  the  candy  was  taken 
off,  and  poured  into  dishes  to  cool.    There  was 


MELANCHOLY  RESULT. 


159 


only  a  little,  but  it  was  hoped  that  this  might  suf- 
fice for  the  present. 

At  length  they  ventured  to  taste  it.  But  the 
first  taste  excited  one  universal  cry  of  execration. 
Tlie  taste  was  of  rancid  oil,  and  not  by  any  means 
the  smooth,  sweet,  delicious  lemon-flavored  molas- 
ses candy  for  which  they  had  waited  so  long.  In 
bitter  disappointment  and  vexation,  Phil  seized  the 
vial  which  Pat  had  handed  him.  He  smelt  it;  he 
poured  some  of  the  last  drops  out  on  his  hand,  and 
touched  it. 

"  Boys,"  said  he,  with  a  rueful  look,  "  the  ste^yard 
of  the  Petrel  must  have  taken  a  lemon  bottle  to 
keep  his  hair-oil  in."  •       '< 

And  all  the  boys  retired  from  the  cook's  galley 
with  a  mournful  smile. 


,  I   If    i. 


^v«'t>)*v  >.i  ■  V 


160 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


■.«!* 


^ 


XII. 

Ingenuity  of  Tom  and  Phil.  —  Checkers  and  Chess, 

—  Speculations  as  to  the  Future.  —  Melancholy 
Forebodings. —  Where  is  the  Antelope  ? — A  Change 
of  Weather.  —  Solemn  Preparations  by  Solomon. 

—  Making  ready  for  the  Worst.  —  The  Place  of 
Retreat.  —  Laying  in  a  Stock  of  Provisions.  — 
Pitching  a  Tent.  —  Reconnaissance  in  Force.  — 
A  midnight  Alarm.  —  Horror  of  Solomon,  —  A 
haunted  Ship.  —  Sleepers  aioakened.  —  They  go 
to  lay  the  Ghost.  —  Forth  into  the  Night    ^^ 

►HE  boys  thus  succeeded  in  filling  the  day  with 
sufficient  incidents  to  occupy  their  thoughts. 
It  was  not  an  unpleasant  day  ;  indeed,  it  was 
afterwards  looked  back  upon  by  all  of  them  as  one 
of  the  marked  days  in  their  lives.  True,  most  of 
the  molasses  had  been  lost,  and  the  remainder, 
which  had  been  turned  into  candy,  had  not  been 
recommended  to  their  palates  by  the  addition  of 
the  hair-oil  of  the  steward  of  the  Petrel ;  but  to 
active-minded  boys  these  little  disappointments 
caused  no  trouble  whatever;  on  the  contrary,  they 
only  furnished  material  for  endless  jests  and^laugh- 


INGENUITY   OP  TOM   AND   PHIL. 


161 


ter.  The  conclusion  of  the  whole  ufTair  was  reached 
when  the  party  once  more  formed  themselves  into 
a  meeting,  at  which  it  was  moved,  seconded,  and 
unanimously  voted,  "  that  the  thanks  of  this  meet- 
ing be  conveyed  to  Solomon  for  his  generous  loan 
of  the  cook's  galley." 

After  this,  Tom,  who  always  was  remarkably 
fruitful  in  devices,  conceived  the  idea  of  making  a 
checker-board.  He  was  able  to  do  this  without  any 
very  great  difficulty.  He  obtained  the  head  of  a 
flour  barrel,  and  with  some  soot  and  water  he  was 
able  to  mark  out  the  squares  very  well  indeed. 
He  then  obtained  the  covers  of  some  red  herring 
boxes,  which  he  cut  up  into  the  checker  pieces, 
blackening  them  with  soot.  He  th6n  challenged 
Bruce  to  a  game.  Bruce  played,  and  won  ;  but,  as 
at  the  end  of  that  time  Bruce,  who  had  chosen  the 
black  men,  found  his  fingers  and  face  all  covered 
with  soot,  and  his  fingers,  moreover,  smelling  most 
abominably  of  stale  red  herring,  his  victory  did 
not  seem  to  give  him  that  satisfaction  which  it 
might  be  supposed  to  have  caused. 

Fired  by  Tom's  example,  Phil  undertook  a  more 
ambitious  task,  which  was  nothing  less  than  to 
make  a  set  of  chess-men.  He  went  about  the 
pantry,  and  succeeded  in  finding  a  number  of  corks, 
which  he  attempted  to  cut  into  the  required  shapes. 
His  knife,  however,  was  rather  dull,  and  he  himself 
was  not  particularly  skilful  at  carving;  so  that 
when  the  pieces  were   completed,  it  required  a 

11 


162 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


great  effort  of  the  imagination  to  see  the  connec- 
tion between  tlie  corks  and  the  pieces  which  they 
were  supposed  to  represent,  and  a  still  greater 
effort  of  memory  to  retain  the  recollection  of  such 
resemblance.  Ho  challenged  Bart  to  a  game,  and 
the  two  attempted  to  play ;  but,  after  a  dozen 
moves,  attended  by  a  dozen  disputes,  the  game  re- 
solved itself  into  an  insoluble  problem  as  to  whether 
a  certain  piece,  btjlonging  to  Phil,  was  a  pawn  or 
h  queen.  All  present  took  part  in  the  discussion, 
but,  after  a  long  debate,  it  was  left  undecided ;  and 
so  the  game  broke  down.  ~  v    "  ■^■ 

After  tea  they  adjourned  to  the  quarter-deck. 
Here  all  was  pleasant,  and  soothing,  and  agreeable. 
A  gentle  breeze  still  blew  as  before,  and  the  pros- 
pect of  this  tranquil  weather  continued.  The  boys 
sang,  and  told  stories,  and  chatted  for  hours.  They 
speculated  much  as  to  the  time  when  the  Antelope 
might  be  expected  back  again.  Some  thought  that 
she  might  be  back  by  the  evening  of  the  next  day, 
but  others  were  inclined  to  allow  her  a  longer 
time. 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Bart,  "  I  think  we'll  have 
to  allow  about  three  days  —  one  day  to  go  to  the 
Magdalen  Islands,  one  day  to  hunt  up  the  sails,  and 
one  day  to  come  back." 

"  0,  he  needn't  be  so  long  as  that,"  said  Phil. 
"  I  should  think  he  could  get  to  the  Magdalen 
Islands  in  far  less  time.  They  can't  be  over  fifty 
miles  away,  and  this  breeze  would  take  him  there 


FOREBODINGS. 


163 


in  fifteen  hours  or  so.  He  left  here  at  about  six 
yesterday ;  he  probably  got  there  at  about  twelve 
to-day.  Ho  could  hunt  all  over  the  islands  before 
dark  at  farthest ;  and,  of  course,  he'll  come  straight 
back  after  he  gets  the  sails.  He  probably  left 
there  tbis  evening  at  sundown,  and  he  may  be 
here  to-morrow." 

"  0, 1  don't  know,"  said  Bruce.  "  I  dare  say  he 
did  leave  this  evening  to  come  back;  but,  mind 
you,  my  boy,  this  wind's  against  him.  He'll  have 
to  tack  coming  back,  and  the  Antelope  isn't  much 
at  that.     I  don't  believe  he'll  do  it  by  to-morrow." 

"  Three  days,  I  think,  will  have  to  be  allowed," 
said  Arthur. 

"  Well,  three  days  ought  to  do  it  at  the  farthest," 
said  Tom.  "  He  certainly  won't  wait  at  the  Mag- 
dalen Islands.  The  only  thing  that'll  keep  him'll 
be  the  head  winds."      •  .    ' 

i  "  Sure,  an'  for  my  part,"  said  Pat,  "he  may  stay 
three  weeks,  if  he  likes.  This  place  is  over  an 
over  again  betther  than  the  Antelope." 

"  0,  I  don't  know,"  said  Bart.  "  It's  all  very 
well  while  the  wind  is  this  way,  but  if  an  easterly 
or  southerly  wnnd  should  come  up,  it  wouldn't  be 
BO  comfortable.  A  heavy  sea  would  roll  '♦•hrough 
and  through  the  cabin,  and  we'd  have  to  live,  and 
eat,  and  sleep  up  here." 

"  Sure,  an  ayvin  that  wouldn't  be  so  bad." 

"  Well,  if  it  were  to  rain  at  the  same  time," 
said  Bruce,  "it  might  be  a  little  damp  up  herej 


i 


.u 


it 


164 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


and  Pin  afraid  we  wouldn't  have  quite  so  good  a 
table." 

"  I  only  hope  that  the  Antelope'il  get  back 
before  it  begins  to  blow,"  said  Tom. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bart,  "  it's  all  very  well  in  fine 
weather ;  for  I'd  rather  be  on  board  here  tiian  in 
the  Antelope ;  but  if  the  weather  is  going  to 
change,  I'd  a  precious  sight  rather  have  the  Ante- 
lope within  hail." 

"  O,  well,"  said  Phil,  cheerily,  "  there's  no  sign 
of  a  blow  just  yet,  at  any  rate ;  so  I  suppose  we 
needn't  talk  about  that.  Pve  no  doubt  this  weather'll 
hold  on  for  a  day  or  so  lontrer,  and  by  that  time,  at 
the  farthest,  the  Antelope  will  be  here." 

"  If  the  Antelope  were  really  in  sight,"  said 
Bart,  "  I  don't  believe  I  should  give  one  thought 
to  the  weather;  but  the  fact  that  she  is  away 
makes  the  subject  a  very  important  one.  This 
bead  wind  may  detain  her,  and  if  it  were  to  blow 
hard,  it  would  be  bad  for  us." 

"  Well,"  said  Bruce,  ''  I  believe  that  if  it  did 
blow  hard,  the  wind  would  change ;  and  in  \t 
case,  it  would  be  all  the  more  favorable  for  the 
Antelope,  and,  of  course,  bring  her  here  all  the 
faster.  So,  at  the  worst,  our  hardships  couJdn't 
last  more  than  a  few  hours."  v  tt 

"There's  a  good  deal  in  that,"  said  iiart;  "I 
didn't  think  of  it  before." 

Such  were  their  speculations  as  to  the  Antelope ; 
but  all  these,  together  w'th  all  apprehensions  of 


A   CHANGE   OF  WEATHER. 


165 


10  good  a 
get  back 

11  in  fine 
re  tuan  in 

going   to 
the  Ante- 


's no  sign 
ippose  we 
weather '11 
at  time,  at 

Q-ht,"   said 

e  thought 

is  away 

ne.      This 

e  to  blow 


if  it  did 

id  in       ^t 

It.  for  the 

re  all  the 

is  couMn't 

iiart;  "I 

Antelope ; 
ensions  of 


danger,  and  all  fears  about  the  change  of  weather, 
were  soon  forgotten  in  a  sound  and  refreshing 
sleep.  ,  ^  ^ 

The  next  morning  came,  and  their  conversation 
of  the  previous  night  made  every  one  think  of  the 
Antelope.  On  going  upon  deck,  their  first  thought 
was  of  her.  But  of  the  Antelope  there  was  not  a 
sign,  nor  was  any  sail  visible  whatever.  Little  did 
they  imagine  that  at  that  moment,  instead  of  steer- 
ing his  bark  back  to  them.  Captain  Corbet  was 
sailing  away  from  them,  and  directing  his  course 
to  Miramichi.  But  the  weather  was  fine,  and  the 
breeze  was  still  mild ;  and  so,  aftci  one  glance 
around,  they  all  dismissed  the  subject. 

Breakfast,  and  morning  occupations,  and  games, 
and  swimming,  and  various  other  pastimes,  took  up 
the  interval  until  midday,  when  dinner  came  to 
engage  their  attention. 

On  going  upon  deck  after  dinner,  they  noticed 
a  change  in  the  appearance  of  sea  and  sky.  Clouds 
were  visible  on  the  horizon,  and  the  wind  had 
shifted.  It  was  blowing  from  another  quarter.  It 
had  been  north-east.  It  was  now  south-east.  It 
was  also  a  little  stronger  than  it  had  been,  and 
created  more  than  a  ripple  on  the  water.  The  sur- 
face of  the  sea  was  now  agitated,  and  the  halcyon 
times  of  calm  had  passed.  The  boys  noted  all 
these  things  at  one  glance. 

"  It's  going  to  be  rough,"  said  Bart.  "  The  wind 
has  changed,  and  it's  going  to  blow." 


166 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


; ; 


i 


"  Well,"  said  Bruce,  "  let  it  blow.  It'll  be  fair 
for  the  Antelope,  and  fetch  her  up  all  the  faster." 

"  It's  an  ill  wind  that  blows  no  good,"  said  Tom, 
quietly. 

"  Let  her  rip,"  said  Phil.  .  '     •        ^    ^  ^^ 

The  boys  were  not  by  any  means  inclined  to 
borrow. trouble,  arid  so  they  soon  drove  away  these 
thoughts,  and  began  to  get  up  amusements  of  the 
old.  sort.  They  ransacked  the  cabin,  they  peered 
into  places  heretofore  neglected.  Nothing,  how- 
ever, of  any  particular  interest  rewarded  their 
searches.     So  the  afternoon  passed  away. 

The  tea  table  was  set.  Solomon  did  his  best. 
All  praised  the  repast,  as  something  of  a  superior 
order.  This  time  Solomon  did  not  kindle,  and  glow, 
and  chuckle  at  the  praises  of  his  young  friends,  but 
preserved  a  demeanor  of  unchangeable  gravit^^ 

As  they  sat  at  table,  they  all  noticed  a  slight 
motion  in  the  vessel,  which  would  not  have  been 
regarded  under  ordinary  circumstances,  but  which 
now,  in  their  very  peculiar  situation,  excited 
comment.       '  • 

"  The  wind  is  increasing,"  said  Arthur. 

"I  dare  say  we'll  have  a  blow  to-night,"  said 
Bart. 

"  If  there's  much  mofe  motion,  we  must  expect 
to  get  a  ducking,"  said  Tom. 

"  Any  way,"  said  Phil,  "  my  berth's  out  of  the 
reach  of  the  water ;  it's  the  upper  one.'^ 

"  Sure,  thin,  an  I'll  have  to  change  my  berth  to 


^«t"> 


,,it. 


SOLOMON'S  PREPARATIONS. 


167 


an  upper  one/'  said  Pat,  "  if  that's  what  ye're 
thinkin  of." 

"  Well,"  said  Bruce,  "  it'll  be  all  the  better  for 
tlio  Antelope.  The  wind  won't  be  much,  after  all. 
We'll  only  feel  it  because  we're  so  low  in  the 
water."  .      . 

"  0,  of  course,"  said  Bart ;  "  and  if  the  worst 
comes  to  the  worst,  we  can  go  to  the  quarter- 
deck." 

The  change  in  their  prospects,  however,  did  not 
in  the  slightest  degree  affect  the  appetite  of  the 
boys ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  they  exhibited  a  greater 
devotion  than  ordinary  to  this  repast,  as  though 
they  were  all  under  the  impression  that  this  might 
be  the  last  one  which  they  were  to  eat  under  such 
luxurious  circumstances. 

This  impression,  if  it  did  exist,  was  confirmed 
after  tea,  when  they  went  out  upon  deck.  Solomon 
was  there,  grave  and  preoccupied. 

"  Chilen,"  said  he,  in  a  mild  voice,  "  we  mus 
get  some  'visium  up  dis  yar  ebenin  on  to  dat  ar 
quarter-deck.  I  ben  a  riggin  some  tackle  to  hist 
up  some  barls  ob  biscuit.  Dar's  water  up  dar 
already,  two  barls,  an  dat'U  be  nuff  for  de  present. 
You'll  all  hab  to  len  a  han,  an  hist  up  biscuit  barls ; 
an  you  can  fotch  up  as  many  oder  tings  as  you  can 
lay  yer  bans  on."         .     ,       ,  ,   •. 

"  0,  let's  wait  till  to-morrow,"  said  Tom. 

"  No,  no  ;  bes  be  in  time,"  said  Solomon.  "  It's  a 
gwine  to  blow  dis  yer  night,  an  we've  got  to  work 
so  as  to  hab  all  tingp*.  ready." 


in 


168 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


None  of  tlie  boys  were  surprised  at  this  ;  so  they 
all  prepared  to  lend  a  hand  at  the  work.  This  was, 
as  Solomon  said,  to  hoist  up  some  barrels  of  biscuit. 
These  they  rolled  out  from  the  store-room,  and 
hoisted  up  to  the  quarter-deck.  They  then  lashed 
them  round  the  mizzenmast  securely. .  Two  stout 
seamen's  chests  were  then  brought  up,  bein;];  first 
emptied  of  their  contents,  and  into  these  the  boys 
packed  an  assortment  of  such  articles  of  food  as 
might  be  desirable  in  the  event  of  a  prolonged  stay 
on  the  quarter-deck,  such  as  two  hams,  which  Solo- 
mon, with  wise  forethought,  had  boiled,  cheese,  pot- 
ted meats,  knives,  forks,  mustard,  butter,  salt,  &c. 

They  now  felt  prepared  to  some  extent  for  the 
worst ;  but  the  question  still  remained,  how  they 
were  to  procure  shelter  in  the  event  of  rain.  A 
diligent  search  resulted  in  the  discovery  of  several 
tarpaulins.  These  they  hung  over  the  boom,  se- 
curing the  ends  on  each  side  to  the  deck  in  such 
a  way  that  a  tent  was  formed,  which  was  spacious 
enough  to  shelter  them  all  in  case  of  need,  and 
quite  impervious  to  water.  In  the  middle  of  this 
tent  rose  the  skylight,  which  might  serve  for  a 
table,  or  even  a  sleeping-place,  in  case  of  need. 
Upon  the  top  of  this  they  spread  some  mattresses 
and  blankets.     '  .  a- 

"  Dar,"  said  Solomon,  "  dat  ar's  de  best  dat  we 
can  do ;  an  if  dis  yer  wind's  boun  to  rise,  an  dis  yer 
vessel's  decks  get  a  swimmin  wid  water,  we'll  be 
able  to  hab  a  dry  place  to  lib  in." 


I 


THE  PLACE  OP  RETREAT. 


169 


"  Well,  I  don't  believe  we'll  have  to  use  it,"  said 
[Tom;  "but  there's  nothing  like  having  things 
|ready."  * 

"  0,  we'll  sleep  all  the  sounder  for  this,"  said  Bart. 
["There's  nothing  like  knowing  that  we've  got  a 
place  tc  run  to,  if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst." 

"  And  then,  even  if  the  sea  does  wash  over  the 
decks,"  said  Phil,  "  all  we've  got  to  do  is,  to  take 
off  our  shoes  and  stockings,  roll  up  our  trousers, 
and  meander  about  barefoot." 

"  Sure,  an  there's  a  good  deal  to  be  said  in  favor 
of  goin  barefoot,"  remarked  Pat. 

"  0,  well,"  said  Bruce,  "  it'll  only  be  for  a  little 
while  ;  for  Pve  no  doubt  that  the  Antelope'U  be 
along  some  time  to-morrow." 

"  At  any  rate,  we  can  get  our  sleep  this  night  in 
our  beds,"  saiid  Arthur.  "  Pm  going  to  my  old 
crib,  and  I  mean  to  sleep  there,  too,  till  I'm  washed 
out  of  it." 

"And  so  will  I,"  said  Bart.  -  v 

"  And  I,"  said  Tom. 

"  And  I,"  said  Phil. 

"And  sure  an  meself  will  do  that  same  too," 
said  Pat. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Bruce  ;  "  we'd  be  great  fools 
not  to  sleep  there  as  long  as  we  can." 

The  wind  had  increased  a  little,  but  not  much, 
and  the  motion  of  the  ship  was,  after  all,  but  slight. 
It  was  rather  the  prospect  before  them  than  the 
present  reality  that  had  led  to  these  preparations. 


Jjt-- 


170 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


Two  or  three  hours  passed,  and  ten  o^clock 
came.  By  that  time  the  wind  had  increased  to  a 
fresh,  strong  breeze,  and  the  sea  had  risen  into 
moderate  waves.  The  motion  of  the  ship  had 
grown  to  be  a  slow,  regular  rise  and  fall  of  about 
two  feet.  On  walking  to  the  bows,  they  saw  that 
at  every  rise  and  fall  the  water  came  in  through 
the  scupper-holes  and  flowed  over  the  deck. 

"  Well,  there  it  comes,"  said  Tom  ;  "  but  for  my 
part,  I  persist  in  refusing  to  believe  that  it'll  be 
anything  of  consequence.  I  don't  believe  it'll  get 
into  the  cabin.  As  to  the  deck  here,  a  thorough 
washing'll  do  it  good.  I  was  thinking  to-day  that 
it  needed  one."  v  , 

"  0,  it'll  not  be  much,'-^  said  Phil.  .^         '.: 

"  Sure  an  where's  the  harrum,"  said  Eat,  "  if  it 
does  come  into  the  cabin,  so  long  as  we're  high  up 
in  our  b'erths,  out  of  reach?" 

"  Solomon'll  have  trouble  in  cooking  to-morrow," 
said  Bart.  •  ,. 

"  Then  we'll  feed  on  biscuit,"  said  Arthur,  "  A 
few  days  ago  we'd  have  been  glad  enough  to  be 
where  we  are  now."  *  *  v 

"  That's  true,"  said  Bruce ;  "  and,  besides,  to- 
morrow the  Antelope'll  be  almost  sure  to  be  here. 
This  wind's  fair,  and  as  I've  always  said,  what's 
bad  for  us  in  one  way  is  best  for  us  in  another,  for 
it'll  bring  the  Antelope  along  all  the  faster." 

In  this  way  they  all  made  light  "of  the  change 
that  had  taken  place  ;  and,  turning  away,  they  all 


#k 


A  MIDNIGHT  ALARM. 


171 


o*clock 
3d  to  a 
en  into 
lip  had 
if  about 
law  that 
through 

b  for  my 
it'll  be 
it'll  get 
iiorough 
iay  that 


t,  "  if  it 
high  up 


lorrow 


» 


ir,    "A 
1  to  be 

des,  to- 

)G  here. 

what's 

her,  for 

change 
they  all 


went  to  the  cabin  and  retired  to  their  respective 
berths.  The  lamp  under  the  skylight  was  burning 
brightly,  the  cabin  had  its  usual  cheerful  appear- 
ance, and  the  comforts  here  served  still  more  to 
make  them  overlook  the  troubles  outside. 

So  they  all  went  to  bed. 

For  a  few  hours  they  slept. 

Then  they  were  awakened  by  a  cry — a  wild, 
wailing  cry,  a  cry  of  terror  and  of  despair.  Every 
one  started  up  at  once.  The  cry  came  again 
from  the  cabin. 

"  0,  chilen,  we're  lost !  we're  done  for !  we're 
ru-i-na-ted  for  ebbemo  !  " 

"  Hallo,  Solomon  1  "  cried  Bart.  "  What  are  you 
making  all  that  row  about  ?  " 

And  as  he  said  this  he  jumped  out  of  his  berth. 
As  he  entered  the  cabin  one  glance  reassured  him 
partially.  The  lamps  ^Vere  burning;  they  had 
allowed  them  to  burn  for  this  night ;  the  floor  w^as 
dry.  Everything  had  the  same  air  of  comfort 
which  had  prevailed  when  they  retired.  The 
motion  of  the  ship  was  certainly  greater,  perhaps 
even  much  greater ;  but  under  any  other  circum- 
stances it  would  not  have  been  noticed.  This 
much  Bart  saw  first;  and  then  he  noticed  a  figure 
bowed  over  the  table,  sighing  and  groaning.  It 
was  Solomon.     His  head  was  buried  in  his  hands. 

"  Come,"  said  Bart,  laying  his  hand  on  Solomon's 
shoulder.  "  What's  the  matter  ?  What's  upset 
you  ao?" 


tmr-r 


172 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


Solomon  raised  his  head  and  grasped  Earths  arin| 
convulsively  in  both  of  his  hands. 

"  Dar's  ghosts  about  I"  u.    I 

"Ghosts?"  -   ' 

"  Yes,  Mas'r  Bart ;  d-d-d-dars  g-g-ghosts  a-b-b-b- 
bout,"  said  Solomon,  with  a  shudder  and  with] 
chattering  teeth.  •  • 

"  Pooh  I  nonsense  I  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  | 
Bart. 

By  this  time  all  the  other  boys  were  out  in  the  I 
cabin.  They  had  all  gone  to  bed  with  their  clothes 
on,  and  stood  now  wide  awake  and  prepared  for| 
any  emergency.  They  all  stared  fixedly  at  Solo- 
mon, expecting  to  hear  some  dreadful  disclosure.! 
They  had  never  before  seen  him  so  completely! 
upset. 

"  Dar's  g-g-ghosts  a-b-b-b-b-b-b-oard,"  said  Solo- 1 
mon.  "I  went  to  bed.  I  waked  at  de  row  dey| 
made  down  below,  in  de  hole." 

"  What,  in  the  hold  ?  " 

"  Y-y-yes,  MasV  Bart,  in  d-d-d-d-e  hole  ob  de  ship. 
It's  a  haunted  ship  —  an  —  full  ob  hobgobblums." 

"  Pooh  I  "  said  Bart,  with  a  sigh  of  relief;  "  is  that 
all  ?  Some  nightmare  or  other.  Never  mind,  old 
Solomon  ;  it's  all  right ;  we'll  go  and  lay  the  ghosts. 
You  come  and  show  me  the  place." 

"  Darsn't,"  gasped  Solomon. 

"  0,  you'll  come  with  us,  yon  know ;  we'll 
all  go." 

"  D-d-d-arsn't,"  said  Solomon  again. 


SEARCH   FOR  THE  GHOST. 


173 


"  Well,  we'll  go,  and  I  think  it'll  be  better  for 
^ou  to  come  with  us  than  to  stay  here  alone,"  said 
Jart.  "  Come  along,  boys ;  let's  find  out  what  it 
is.     Perhaps  something's  the  matter." 

With  these  words  he  went  out. 

The  other  boys  followed. 

Solomon  gave  one  wild  glance  around,  and  then, 
[finding  himself  forsaken,  and  dreading  the  lone- 
liness, he  hurried  after  the  others. 


■^f  "..■>■,- ^.: 


174 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


tP 


XIII. 


Hushing  forth  at  the  Alarm  of  Solomon.  —  The  roll 
ing  Waters.  —  The  flooded  DecJcs.  —  Strange,  un- 
earthly  Noises.  —  Dread  Fears.  —  Is  the  Ship 
breaking  up? — Consolations.  —  Refuge  in  the 
Cabin.  —  A  Barricade  against  the  Waters,  —  A 
damp  Abode.  —  A  Debate.  —  WJiere  shall  we  pass 
the  Night  ?  —  Solomon  on  Guard.  —  Trie  fourth 
Day.  —  No  Antelope.  —  A  long  Watch.  —  TJie 
Cabin  deserted.  —  Sleeping  on  Deck. 

fT  the  alarm  of  Solomon,  the  boys  thus  all 
hurried  out  upon  deck.  The  night  was 
dark.  The  sky  was  overcast.  The  motion 
of  the  ship  was  greater  than  it  had  been.  As  they 
stepped  out,  they  felt  their  feet  plash  in  a  stream 
of  water  that  rolled  towards  them,  and  perceived 
by  this  that  the  waves  had  risen  high  enough  to 
break  over  the  low-lying  deck.  But  it  was  only 
enough  to  wet  the  deck,  and  not  enough  to  cause 
either  alarm  or  even  discomfort,  since  it  had  not 
penetrated  to  the  cabin.  As  they  advanced  for- 
ward, however,  they  encountered  deeper  streams 
of  water,  which  swept  down  from  the  bows  towards 


Itil  lltiil 


THE   ROLLING   WATERS. 


175 


.'«. 


-  The  roll 
range,  un- 
the  Ship 
ge  in  the 
iters.  —  A 
II  we  pass 
lie  fourth 
oh.  —  Tlie 


3  thus  all 
light  was 
he  motion 
As  they 
i  a  stream 
perceived 
nough  to 
was  only 
to  cause 
b  had  not 
meed  for- 
r  streams 
s  towards 


them,  rising  as  high  as  their  ankles.  Yet  even 
this  excited  but  little  attention.  Solomon's  alarm 
had  prepared  them  all  for  something  serious,  and 
so  slight  a  thing  i*s  this  was  not  deemed  worthy  of 
notice.  They  hurried  on,  therefore,  and  at  length 
having  reached  the  forecastle,  they  stood  and 
looked  all  around. 

The  motion  of  the  vessel  would  have  been  con- 
sidered very  ordinary  in  any  one  differently  situ- 
ated. Tiie  waves  had  risen  somewhat,  and  at  their 
motion  the  ship  rose  and  fell  about  four  feet.  This 
was  sufficient  to  bring  her  deck  under  the  surface 
of  the  sea,  and  at  each  fall  the  water  streamed  in 
and  rolled  about.  The  wind  was  rather  fresh,  but 
not  by  any  means  violent,  and  it  sighed  through 
the  rigging  overhead. 

"  Why,  Solomon,"  said  Bart,  at  length,  "  what  do 
you  mean  ?  I  don't  see  that  any  thing's  hap- 
pened." 

Solomon  had  been  clinging  to  the  outskirts  of 
the  party,  and  at  this  he  cried  out, —  -    . 

''  Dey  ain't  out  dar  !     Dey's  inside." 

"Inside?     Where?"  - 

"  In  dar  !  "  said  Solomon,  pointing  to  the  door 
of  the  forecastle. 

At  this  Bart  went  in,  followed  by  all  the  boys. 
A  dim  lamp  was  burning,  suspended  from  a  beam. 
The  boys  looked  around,  and  saw  the  seamen's 
berths,  but  nothing  more. 

"  There  isn't  anything  here,"  said  Brucet 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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176 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


At  that  moment  Solomon  grasped  Bart's  arm, 
and  said,  with  a  gasp, —  ' 

"  Jes'  you  listen  to  'em  I '' 

The  boys  all  listened. 

As  they  listened,  there  arose  a  confused  medley 
of  sounds,  which  seemed  to  come  from  the  hold  of 
the  ship  —  sounds  of  pounding,  thumping,  and 
grinding,  mingled  with  groanings,  gurglings, 
sobs,  choking  sighs,  squeals,  scrapings,  rumblings, 
tumblings,  shiverings,  and  many  others  of  an  inde- 
finable character.  To  these  the  boys  all  listened 
in  silence,  and  for  a  time  there  came  a  solemn  feel- 
ing of  awe  over  every  one  of  that  little  band  of 
listeners. 

"  D-d-d-dem's  um !  "  said  Solomon,  with  a  shud- 
der. "  D-d-d-dem's  d-d-de  g-g-g-ghosts,  d-d-d-dem's 
d-d-de  hobble-bobble-gobblums ! " 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  Bart.     "  Don't  talk  that  trash 
just  now.     This  may  be  something  serious." 
i  "  The  cargo  seems  moving,"  said  Bruce.     "  The 
leak  may  be  a  large  one." 

"  I  dare  say  she's  got  a  bad  strain,"  said  Phil. 

**  It's  very  likely,"  said  Arthur,  solemnly,  '*  that 
she  won't  last  very  long." 

"  That's  my  own  idea,"  said  Tom.  "  Come,  boys, 
wo. may  as  well  look  the  worst  in  the  face.  It's 
my  opinion  that  she's  breaking  up." 

"  Well,  we've  got  the  captain's  gig,"  said  Pat, 
"  an  can  tr>,ke  to  that,  so  we  can.  We've  got  lots 
of  provisions." 


STRANGE  NOISES. 


177 


"  But  weVe  no  oars,"  said  Bart. 

"  Well,  we  can  rig  up  a  bit  of  a  sail,  so  we  can, 
out  of  thim  ould  tarpowlines." 

"  After  all,  though,"  said  Bruce,  "  she  may  not 
be  breaking  up.  I've  heard  somewhere  that  in  a 
water-logged  ship  the  water  makes  the  most  ex- 
traordinary noises  ever  heard  whenever  there  is 
the  slightest  motion ;  so  these  may,  after  all,  be 
nothing  more  than  the  usual  noises." 

"  And  besides,  what  is  this  sea  !  "  said  Bart;  " it 
can't  do  anything ;  it's  nothing.  In  fact,  the  more 
I  think  of  it,  the  more  sure  I  feel  that  this  ship  can't 
break  up,  unless  she  strikes  a  rock.  I  remember 
what  sea  captains  have  told  me  —  that  a  timber 
ship  may  float  and  drift  about  for  fifty  years,  and 
hold  together  without  any  trouble,  unless  it  should 
strike  a  rock  or  be  driven  ashore.  So  now  that  I 
think  of  it,  I  don't  believe  there's  the  slightest 
danger." 

"  But,  if  that  is  so,  why  did  the  captain  of  the 
Petrel  desert  her  ?  He  must  have  known  this,  if 
it  is  so." 

This  was  Tom's  objection,  who  was  not  quite  in- 
clined to  receive  Bart's  assertion. 

**  Well,  I  dare  say  he  hadn't  been  in  the  timber 
trade,"  said  Bart.  "  This  was  something  new  for 
him,  and  he  thought  she  would  go  to  pieces. 
That's  what  he  wrote  in  the  message  that  be  put 
in  the  bottle." 

This  conversation  had  not  been  lost  on  Solomon, 
12 


178 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


whose  fears,  prompted  by  superstition,  gradually 
faded  away,  and  finally  died  out.  The  true  cause 
of  the  terrific  noises  being  thus  assserted  and  ac- 
cepted by  the  boys,  there  was  no  difficulty  on  Sol- 
omon's part  about  adopting  it.  Accordingly  he 
soon  regained  his  ordinary  equanimity,  and  began 
to  potter  about  the  forecastle,  arranging  some 
dishes  and  pans. 

The  descent  of  Solomon  from  the  supernatural 
to  the  commonplace  had  a  good  effect  upon  the 
boys,  who,  seeing  that  he  had  suddenly  lost  all  his 
fears,  thought  it  time  to  throw  aside  their  own 
anxieties. 

"  Well,"  said  Phil,  "  I  don't  see  the  use  of  stay- 
ing in  this  dismal  forecastle  any  longer,  when  there 
is  a  comfortable  cabin  aft ;  so  I'm  going  back  to  my 
berth."      • 

'  "  Sure  an  it's  meself,"  cried  Pat^  "  that  was  jist 
goin  to  say  that  same." 

"  I  think  it's  about  the  best  thing  we  can  do, 
boys,"  said  Bruce.  "  There's  no  danger  just  yet, 
evidently,  and  so  there's  no  reason  why  we  should 
lose  our  night's  rest.  Let's  sleep  while  we  can, 
say  I,  and  I  dare  say  the  Antelope'll  be  along  some 
time  to-morrow."  ^  v 

Upon  this  proposal  the  boys  acted  forthAvith,  and 
soon  they  were  all  not  only  back  again  in  their 
berths,  but  slumbering  profoundly.  Solomon  also 
turned  in  "  forard,"  and  finished  his  night's  sleep, 
which,  however,  was   frequently  interrupted    by 


im 


THE  FLOODED   DECK. 


179 


excursions  and  reconnoitringB  which  he  made  for 
the  purpose  of  seeing  how  the  weather  was. 

On  the  following  morning  they  all  awaked  early, 
and  hurried  upon  deck.  This  was  the  third  day 
since  the  Antelope  had  left,  and  by  evening  the 
three  days  would  be  completed  which  they  allowed 
for  her  probable  absence.  There  was  not  one  of 
them  who  did  not  go  up  on  deck  that  morning  with 
the  expectation  of  seeing  her  somewhere  in  the 
distance.  But  on  looking  around,  they  saw  no  sail 
of  any  kind.  It  was  with  a  feeling  of  disappoint- 
ment that  they  recognized  this  fact,  for,  though 
thus  far  they  had  not  encountered  any  danger, 
they  had,  at  least,  become  aware  of  the  fact  that 
an  increase  of  wind  might  make  their  situation 
very  dangerous  indeed. 

The  wind  also  had  grown  stronger,  and  sang 
through  the  rigging  in  a  way  that  was  anything 
but  music  to  their  ears.  The  sky  was  overcast 
with  rolling  clouds.  In  another  vessel  they  would 
have  called  it  a  fine  day,  and  a  fresh  breeze,  but  to 
them  it  became  equivalent  to  a  storm.  The  waves 
had  risen  to  a  height  commensurate  with  the  iti- 
crease  of  the  wind.  The  rise  and  fall  of  the  ship 
amounted  to  about  six  feet,  and  at  every  other 
plunge  her  bows  went  entirely  under  water. 
The  deck  was  now  completely  flooded,  and  Solo- 
mon in  traversing  it  was  sometimes  up  to  his  knees 
in  the  rushing  torrent.  The  fire  in  the  cook's  gal- 
ley had  been  put  out,  and  he  had  been  compelled 


180 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


to  transfer  his  apparatus  to  the  stove  in  the 
•  cabin. 

The  quarter-deck  astern  prevented  the  sea  from 
coming  aboard  in  that  direction ;  and  by  the  time 
the  water  that  rolled  over  the  bows  had  reached 
the  cabin  doors,  it  had  greatly  subsided ;  yet  still 
enough  had  poured  into  the  cabin  to  saturate  it  in 
every  nook  and  corner.  A  pool  of  water  filled  all 
thf*  cabin  and  all  the  state-rooms  to  a  depth  of  six 
inches,  and  rolled  about  with  the  motion  of  the 
ship. 

"  Well,  this  isn't  certainly  quite  as  comfortable 
as  it  might  be,"  said  Phil,  with  a  blank  look. 

"  At  this  rate,"  said  Tom,  "  if  this  sort  of  thing 
keeps  on,  we'll  have  to  launch  the  boat,  and  row  to 
the  cook's  galley." 

*'  It's  strange  that  the  Antelope  isn't  in  sight  I  " 
said  Arthur,  shading  his  eyes,  and  trying  to  force 
them  to  see. 

"  No  use,"  said  Bart,  who  had  been  peering 
through  the  glass,  and  now  handed  it  to  Arthur. 
"  No  use.  There's  not  only  no  Antelope,  but  no 
other  vessel ;  in  fact,  there's  not  a  sign  of  any  sail 
of  anv  kind  whatever." 

At  this  Arthur,  who  had  already  exhausted  all 
the  capabilities  of  the  spy -glass,  took  it,  and  began 
sweeping  the  entire  circuit  of  the  horizon. 

"  0,  don't  trouble  yourselves,  boys,"  said  Bruce. 
"  It  isn't  quite  time  yet  for  the  Antelope  to  get 
here.     We  allowed  her  three  days.     They  won't 


THE  BREAKFAST. 


181 


be  np  till  evening.  Besides,  she's  just  as  likely  to 
bo  four  days ;  she's  not  over  fast.  For  my  part,  I 
don't  intend  to  look  for  her  to-day  at  all.  It's  quite 
possible  that  a  vessel  may  heave  in  sight ;  but  I 
don't  believe  it'll  be  the  Antelope.  And  if  any 
vessel  does  turn  up,  we  can  easily  si-gnalize,  for  I 
found  all  the  signal-flags  of  the  Petrel  in  the  closet 
next  my  state-room."  '       ■ 

That  morning  Solomon  had  to  cook  the  breakfast 
in  the  cabin.  The  boys  all  concluded  to  go  about 
barefoot.  The  breakfast  was  cooked,  and,  consid- 
ering all  the  circumstances,  was  a  great  success ; 
but  the  glory  of  the  cabin  had  departed,  and  it  was 
hardly  to  be  expected  that  a  breakfast  could  be 
thoroughly  enjoyable  at  which  one  had  to  sit  with 
the  water  playing  all  about  his  feet  and  ankles. 
Still  the  boys  made  the  best  of  it,  and  did  ample 
justice  to  the  fare.  Solomon  still  struggled  man- 
fully against  the  diflSculties  of  his  position,  and  on 
this  occasion  actually  furnished  them  with  hot  rolls. 
These,  with  broiled  ham,  coffee,  tea,  and  other  things, 
made  a  breakfast  that  was  not  to  be  despised. 

After  breakfast  the  boys  were  glad  to  leave  the 
cabin,  and  seek  the  quarter-deck,  which  arose  like 
an  island  out  of  the  water.  They  began  to  look  upon 
this  quarter-deck  as  a  place  that  was  likely  to  be- 
come their  home.  The  sashes  of  the  skylight  were 
kept  open  and  made  use  of,  as  affording  a  readier 
means  of  passing  in  and  out  of  the  cabin.  They 
began  to  feel  very  seriously  the  restriction  of  space 


182 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


which  had  been  caused  by  the  flowing  waters,  and 
the  cliarms  of  the  comfortable  cabin  had  never 
seemed  so  great  as  when  they  were  deprived  of 
them.  Formerly  they  had  been  able  to  lounge  in 
and  out,  and,  above  all,  to  prolong  the  various  re- 
pasts, and  thus  pass  away  the  time ;  but  now 
breakfast,  dinner,  and  tea  had  to  be  hurried  over 
as  rapidly  as  possible,  and  there  came  the  prospect 
of  final  banishment  from  the  cabin  altogether. 

The  sea  at  midday  was  somewhat  rougher;  but 
Solomon  heroically  cooked  the  dinner  in  the  cabin, 
although  the  water  was  sometimes  half  way  up  to 
his  knees.  Measures  were  now  taken  to  keep  the 
water  out.  The  door  was  shut  and  locked,  and  in 
the  interstices  they  fastened  oakum.  Had  this 
been  done  at  the  first,  the  cabin  might  have  been 
saved ;  but  unfortunately  it  had  been  neglected, 
and  now  that  the  water  was  in,  there  was  no  way 
of  getting  it  out.  Still  this  was  a  decided  improve- 
ment, and  there  was  comfort  in  the  thought  that  it 
could  not  grow  any  worse  now,  unless  it  became 
very  bad  indeed.  ^ 

Dinner  was  served  in  the  cabin,  and  the  boys  did 
justice  to  it,  though  they  showed  no  inclination  to 
linger  at  the  table  any  longer  than  was  absolutely 
necessary. 

After  dinner  they  sought  the  quarter-deck, 
where  they  spent  the  afternoon.  They  had  now 
begun  to' look  for  the  coming  of  the  Antelope  with 
great  impatience,  and  their  anxiety  in  this  respect 


WHERE  TO   SLEEP. 


183 


kept  them  in  a  state  of  suspense  which  did  not  al- 
low them  to  feel  interest  in  any  other  thing.  To 
all  of  them  the  time  seemed  interminable.  The  spy- 
glass was  passed  around  a  hundred  times,  and  each 
one  on  using  it  see^^ed  reluctant  to  give  it  up. 
But  at  every  fresh  survey  of  the  horizon  there  was 
the  same  result ;  and  as  hour  after  hour  passed, 
they  began  to  fear  that  something  might  have  hap- 
pened to  Captain  Corbet. 

So  the  time  passed.  All  the  afternoon  the  wind 
grew  higher,  and  the  rolling  of  the  vessel  in- 
creased ;  still  they  took  tea  in  the  cabin  ;  and  there 
arose  the  important  question  as  to  where  they 
should  sleep. 

The  opinions  varied.  Some  of  them,  in  view  of 
the  fact  that  the  wind  was  rather  increasing  than 
diminishing,  were  inclined  to  desert  their  state- 
rooms, and  sleep  on  the  quarter-deck,  upon  the 
skylight,  under  the  friendly  shelter  of  the  tar- 
paulin. 

Tom  advocated  this  most  strongly. 

"  ItTi  be  just  as  comfortable,"  said  he,  "  and 
much  less  liable  to  interruption.  Here  are  our 
mattresses,  all  spread  out,  and  roomy  enough  for  all 
of  us.  Here  is  the  tarpaulin  hanging  over  the 
boom,  and  making  a  first-rate  tent.  Down  in  the 
cabin  the  water  seems  to  be  slowly  increasing,  and 
we'll  be  liable  to  be  washed  out  of  our  berths  be- 
fore morning." 

"  Yes,"  said   Phil,  who   chimed   in   with   Tom, 


184 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


"  and  what's  worse,  if  the  sea  gets  rougher,  we'll 
be  certain  to  ship  some  seas  astern  belbre  morn- 
ing, and  in  that  case  it'll  come  pouring  into  the 
cabin  through  the  skylight." 

"  Well,  if  it  does,"  said  Bruce,  "  we  should  get 
as  wet  on  the  skylight  as  in  the  cabin." 

"  Yes,"  said  Arthur,  "  and  we  might  be  washed 
off  into  the  sea." 

"  Sure  an  we  can  lash  ourselves  to  the  mast,  an 
sleep  there,"  said  Pat.  "  That's  what  shipwrecked 
sailors  always  do." 

"  0,  there's  all  the  difference  in  the  world,"  said 
Tom.  "  If  we  are  above,  we'll  be  able  to  avoid 
any  danger,  but  down  below  there  we'll  only  be 
drowned  like  rats  in  a  hole.  For  my  part,  if  the 
sea  is  coming  in,  I  should  like  to  be  where  I  can 
have  a  chance  to  swim,  at  least." 

"  0,  come  now,  Tom,"  said  Bart,  "  you  are  put- 
ting it  too  strong  altogether.  The  wind  hasn't  in- 
creased very  much,  and  the  change  has  been  very 
gradual.  There's  no  likelihood  of  any  sudden 
change,  you  know.  If  it  gets  much  rougher, 
we'll  find  it  out  soon  enough,  and  we'll  be  able  to 
get  out  of  the  cabin,  I  should  think,  before  it  gets 
filled  with  water.  If  the  ship  begins  to  pitch  like 
that,  so  as  to  ship  heavy  seas  astern,  the  first  one 
that  comes  aboard  will  be  enough  to  wake  every 
mother's  son  of  us.  I  believe  in  sticking  to  the 
cabin  as  long  as  we  can.  Our  berths  are  as  com- 
fortable as  ever.     The  puddle  of  water  about  the 


A  DEBATE. 


185 


floor  don't  really  amount  to  much,  after  all.  The 
door  is  so  tight  now  that  very  little  more  water  can 
get  in  ;  and  as  to  shipping  aeas  over  the  stern,  I,  for 
my  part,  don't  believe  that  there  is  any  danger  of 
that  just  yet ;  not  to-night,  at  any  rate." 

"  No,"  said  Bruce.  "  Just  see.  After  all,  there's 
been  no  very  great  change  since  morning.  If  we 
were  aboard  the  Antelope,  we'd  think  nothing  of 
this."  ^ 

"  But  unfortunately,"  said  Tom,  "  we're  not 
aboard  the  Antelope." 

"  0,  well,"  said  Bruce,  cheerfully,  "  we  needn't 
bother  ourselves.  We're  pretty  certain  to  be 
aboard  of  her  to-morrow,  if  we  choose  to  go,  for 
by  that  time  slie's  sure  to  show  herself  We  al- 
lowed her  three  days,  and  the  time  is  up  ;  but  we 
ought  to  allow  one  day  more  in  case  of  unlooked- 
for  delays.  Perhaps  Captain  Corbet  had  to  wait 
for  the  sails,  getting  them  mended,  and  all  that  sort 
of  thing.  I  don't  think  he'd  wait  more  than  one 
day,  at  the  farthest ;  so  we  may  look  for  him  to- 
morrow pretty  confidently.  And  in  the  mean  time, 
I'm  of  Bart's  opinion,  and  think  that  we'd  better 
make  ourselves  comfortable  as  long  as  we  can,  and 
sleep  below  until  we  are  driven  out.  I  don't  be- 
Heve  we'll  be  driven  out  to-night,  at- any  rate;  and 
if  we  are,  we'll  have  plenty  of  warning." 

The  end  of  it  was,  that  they  all  decided  to  sleep 
below.  Solomon,  however,  who  had  been  present 
at  the  discussion,  informed  them  that  he  would 


186 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


sleep  on  deck,  and  keep  one  eye  open.  Some  re- 
monstrance was  offered,  but  in  vain,  and  at  length 
this  arrangement  was  entered  into. 

Fortunately  the  niglit  passed  without  any  acci- 
dent. Their  sleep  was  undisturbed.  On  waking 
in  the  morning,  they  found  not  much  increase  in 
the  water  inside  the  cabin,  but  felt  that  the  vessel 
was  pitching  about  more  than  ever,  and  creaking 
and  groaning  in  every  timber. 

Hurrying  out  on  deck,  they  looked  eagerly 
around.  Bruce  was  up  first,  and  seizing  the  spy- 
glass, scanned  the  whole  horizon  in  the  most 
searching  manner.  But  not  to  the  eyes  of  any 
one,  nor  to  the  searching  gaze  of  Bruce,  appeared 
any  sail  whatever.  Not  one  word  was  said.  The 
disappointment  of  all  amounted  almost  to  dismay 
for  a  moment,  and  their  feelings  were  too  strong 
for  utterance. 

All  around  them  the  sea  arose  in  foaming  billows; 
Overhead  the  sky  was  covered  with  clouds  that 
drove  onward  impetuously.  The  wind  howled 
through  the  rigging ;  the  ship  labored  and  plunged, 
shipping  heavy  seas,  and  .thrusting  her  bows  far 
under  the  rolling  waves.  But  the  quarter-deck,  as 
yet,  was  spared,  and  rose  above  the  seas  like  an 
island,  whereon  thev  could  rest. 

This  day  passed  like  the  previous  one.  They 
spent  the  whole  time  looking  for  the  Antelope.  It 
was  now  the  fourth  day  since  her  departure,  and 
her  delay  made  all  feel  uneasy.    The  cabin  was 


I 


NO   ANTELOPE   YET. 


187 


now  too  uncomfortable  for  thorn,  so  that  they  de- 
cided to  eat  their  meals  on  the  quarter-deck  ;  but 
Solomon  cooked  their  meals  in  the  cabin  stove,  and 
struggled  heroically  against  fate  in  the  effort  to 
a  (lord  his  young  friends  the  best  fare  that  could  be 
furnished. 

The  day  passed  slowly. 

No  Antelope  I  '  • 

Night  came. 

This  time  there  was  no  debate  about  a  sleeping- 
place.  No  one  thought  of  going  below,  and  they 
all  stretched  their  weary  frames  on  the  mattresses, 
which  were  laid  on  the  skylight. 


:■  (  t  '  i 


■r    '  }*•!■• 


lows.*        1 

that        H 

• 

twled        I 

'[  / 

iged,        1 

\      '      '     ■ '     ■ 

s  far       ■ 

ck,  as       1 

'■-■  V'     :■'    ' 

:e  an       1 

^'   ■J'-:^y    i-,.: 

They      1 

».     It      1 

\ 

1.  and      I 

was 


188 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


■'-v/,;. 


XIV. 

A  strange  Sleeping-place.  —  The  Tent.  —  Tlie  View 
astern.  —  Boiling  Waters  in  Pursuit.  —  Morning. 
— Astonishing  Discovery . —  The  solid  Land  mov- 
ing towards  the  anchored  Ship.  —  How  to  account 
for  it.  —  What  Land  is  this  ?  —  Various  Theories. 
—  Every  one  has  a  different  Opinion.  —  Solomon 
driven  from  the  Cabin.  —  Drawing  nearer.  — An 
iron-bound  Coast. 


HEIR  sleep  that  night  was  somewhat  dis- 
turbed, for  the  novelty  of  their  position 
prevented  them  from  having  that  placidity 
of  mind  which  is  the  best  promoter  of  slumber. 
At  times  through  the  night  they  awaked,  and  were 
sensible  of  the  rush  of  waters  about  the  ship's 
quarter,  and  also  of  a  greater  motion  of  the  vessel, 
accompanied  by  all  manner  of  creakings  and  groan- 
iiigs.  The  tarpaulins  hung  over  them,  having 
been  secured  in  such  a  fashion  as  to  form  an  ex- 
cellent tent,  opening  towards  the  stern,  and  closed 
at  the  other  end  by  the  mizzen-mast  and  the  barrels 
of  biscuit  and  other  things  around  it.  Through 
the  opening  astern  they  could  see  at  times,  as  the 


THE  TENT. 


189 


ship  sunk,  the  phosphorescent  gleam  of  foaming 
billows  rolling  around  them  as  if  about  to  break 
over  them.  Most  of  these  did  dash  themselves 
against  the  ship,  but  none  fell  upon  the  quarter- 
deck; all  that  the  boys  felt  was  the  fine  spray 
which  floated  under  their  resting-place,  and  satu- 
rated everything. 

None  of  them,  however,  attempted  to  rise  and 
go  forth  until  daybreak.  There  was  no  cause  for 
doing  so ;  their  sleeping-place  was  the  most  com- 
fortable now  left  in  the  ship,  and  the  scene  without 
had  no  attraction  strong  enough  to  draw  them 
away.  Day  dawned,  and  still  there  was  some 
hesitation  about  getting  up. 

This  day  was  the  fifth  since  the  departure  of  the 
Antelope.  Their  situation  was  now  quite  serious ; 
but  they  had  not  yet  seen  any  signs  of  Captain 
Corbet.  They  looked  forward  towards  seeing  him 
on  this  day,  but  the  disappointment  of  the  two  pre- 
vious days  made  them  despondent,  and  each  one 
dreaded  to  look  out,  for  fear  that  his  forebodings 
might  be  confirmed.  This  was  the  waking  thought 
of  each,  and  each  one  also  perceived  that  this  day 
was  worse  than  any  they  had  known  yet.  If  the 
Antelope  still  kept  away,  they  scarcely  knew  what 
to  hope  for. 

■  At  length  they  went  forth,  and  looked  around. 
All  over  the  sea  the  waves  were  larger,  and 
rougher,  and  fiercer.  The  motion  of  the  ship  was 
greater  than  ever.    It  seemed  as  though  the  bil- 


190 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


lows,  that  raced  and  chased  about  in  all  directions, 
were  hurrying  to  overwhelm  her.  The  deck  below 
was  all  covered  with  white  foam,  and  at  times  the 
bows  plunged  so  far  under  water,  and  remained 
there  so  long,  and  were  overwhelmed  by  such 
floods  of  rolling  billows,  that  it  seemed  as  thougli 
the  ship  would  never  again  emerge.  The  quarter- 
deck was  now  more  than  ever  like  an  island ;  but 
every  moment  lessenea  its  security,  and  brought 
it  more  and  more  within  reach  of  the  ravenous 
waves  that  surged  around  on  all  sides.  Such  was 
the  sight  that  met  their  view,  as  they  took  their 
first  look  around.  ' 

But  for  all  this  they  had  been  prepared  during 
the  long  night,  by  all  that  they  had  felt,  and  heard, 
and  seen;,  and  therefore  this  did  not  affect  them 
so  much.  It  was  the  long,  eager  look  which  they 
turned  towards  the  distant  sea,  the  sharp,  scrutiniz- 
ing gaze  with  which  they  swept  the  horizon,  that 
brought  the  deepest  trouble;  for  there,  over  the 
wide  surface  of  the  waters,  not  a  single  sail  was 
visible ;  and  the  fifth  day,  while  it  brought  fresh 
calamities,  brought  no  Antelope,  and  no  hope  of 
relief.  .  , 

Suddenly  Pat  gave  a  loud  shout.      ,         •  f' 

"What's  that?"  he  cried;  "what  in  the  wide 
wurruld  is  it  that  I  see  over  there?  Sure  it's 
draimin  I  must  be." 

All  the  boys  looked  in  the  direction  where  Pat 
was  pointing. 


CONJECTURES   OF  THE   BOYS. 


191 


"  It's  land ! "  cried  Bruce,  in  tones  of  amaze- 
ment. 

"  Land  !  "  "  Land  !  "  "  Land  !  "  burst  from  the  oth- 
er boys,  who,  with  inexpressible  wonder,  looked  at 
the  unaccountable  sight,  and  scarcely  wore  able  to 
believe  what  they  saw.  ,,      ^    •  ' 

Yet  it  was  land  —  most  unmistakably.  There 
it  rose,  a  long,  blue  line,  apparently  about  fifteen 
miles  away.  It  was  a  rugged  shore,  and  extended 
along  the  horizon  for  some  distance.  For  such  a 
sight  as  this  they  had  not  been  in  the  slightest  de- 
gree prepared ;  in  fact,  they  would  have  expected 
anything  sooner  ;  fjr  how  could  the  land  move  itself 
up  to  their  fast-anchored  ship?  Yet  there  was  the 
fact,  and  before  that  fact  they  were  simply  con- 
founded. 

"  I  don't  understand  it  at  all,"  said  Bruce.  "  If 
it  had  been  foggy  during  the  last  few  days,  or 
even  lu.zy,  I  could  then  understand  it;  but  it's 
been  parvicularly  bright  and  clear  all  the  time." 

"  I  wonder  if  it  can  be  something  like  mirage," 
said  Arthur. 

"  No,"  said  Bart.  "  The  mirage  never  appears, 
except  when  the  sea  is  perfectly  still." 

"  My  opinion  is,"  said  Arthur,  "  that  the  ship's 
been  dragging  her  anchor,  and  has  been  drifting 
all  these  five  days ;  or,  at  any  rate,  ever  since  the 
wind  rose." 

"  Perhaps  she  has  broken  loose,"  said  Tom. 
"  The   chain   may  have   had   a  weak  link.     I   re- 


192 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


member  the  anchor  went  down  with  a  tremendous 
jerk." 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Phil,  "  I'm  half  inclined  to 
believe  that  the  anchor  never  got  to  the  bottom. 
I  don't  know  how  deep  the  water  is  in  the  middle 
of  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  but  I  remember  think- 
ing at  the  time  that  it  was  a  very  short  chain  to 
reach  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  I  remember 
wondering  that  *the  gulf  was  so  shallow,  but  I 
thought  tl  at  Captain  Corbet  knew  what  he  was 
about;  but  now,  the  more  I  think  of  it,  the  more 
sure  I  feel  that  Captain  Corbet  did  not  know  what 
he  was  about,  but  dropped  anchor,  and  let  things 
slide,  after  his  usual  careless  fashion.  He  con- 
fessed, over  and  over,  that  he  knew  nothing  at  all 
about  these  waters ;  and  he  never  once  took  the 
trouble  to  sound,  or  to  try  and  hunt  up  a  chart. 
No ;  ha  has  dropped  anchor,  and  the  anchor  has 
never  begun  to  get  near  the  bottom.  The  conse- 
quence is,  we've  been  drifting  along  ever  since 
he  left  us,  and  are  now  ever  so  many  miles  away 
from  the  place  where  the  anchor  was  dropped. 
And,  what's  worse,  I  dare  say  the  Antelope  was 
back  there  two  days  ago ;  but  we  were  gone,  and 
so,  of  course.  Captain  Corbet's  lost  us,  and  has  no 
more  idea  wliere  to  look  for  us  than  a  child." 

Phil's  theory  was  so  plausible,  that  it  was  at 
once  accepted  by  all  the  boys.  It  seemed  the 
most  natural  way  of  accounting  for  everything,  — 
for  the  absence  of  the  Antelope,  and  the  appearance 


A  STRANGE  SHORE. 


193 


:  the 
:liart. 

has 
onse- 
isince 
|away 

ped. 

was 
,  and 
las  no 

las  at 

the 

:ance 


of  this  strange  shore.  For  a  time  a  deep  gloom 
fell  over  all,  and  they  stood  in  silence,  staring  at 
the  land. 

Out  of  this  gloom  Tom  was  the  first  to  rouse 
himself. 

"  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  boys,"  said  he,  at  length, 
"  I  don't  know  that  it's  so  bad  a  thing  after  all. 
The  more  I  think  of  it,  the  better  it  seems.  I'd 
ten  times  sooner  be  near  some  land,  as  we  are  now, 
than  be  far  away  out  in  the  midst  of  the  sea,  with 
nothing  to  be  seen,  day  after  day,  but  sky  and 
water.  It  seems  to  me  that  we  must  be  drawing 
nearer  to  the  land,  and  before  evening  we  may  be 
close  enough  to  see  what  sort  of  a  country  it  is. 
If  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  we  can  launch  the 
boat,  and  go  ashore.  It's  a  little  rough,  but,  after 
all,  not  too  rough  for  the  boat.  1  ve  been  out  in 
an  open  boat  when  the  water  was  quite  as  rough 
as  this.  It  seems  rough  to  us,  because  the  ship  is 
water-logged,  and  is  drifting  every  way  —  end  on, 
side  on,  and  so  forth." 

"  I  wonder  what  land  it  is,"  said  Phil. 

"  If  we  only  knew  how  the  wind  has  been,  we 
might  guess  how  we  have  been  drifting,"  said 
Bruce ;  "  but  the  wind  has  changed  once  or  twice, 
and  I've  never  kept  any  account  of  it." 

"  Sometimes,'^  said  Bart,  ^'  it  has  been  blowing 
from  the  bows,  and  sometimes  from  the  quarter.'^ 

"  0,  of  course,  and  every  other  way,"  said  Ar- 
thur; "for  the  simple  reason  that  the  ship  must 

13 


194 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


have  been  turning  about,  first  one  way  and  then 
the  otlior,  as  she  drifted." 

"  I've  got  a  strong  idea,"  said  Phil,  "  that  this 
land  is  Newfoundhmd." 

"  0,  no,"  said  Tom  ;  "  my  impression  is,  that  it's 
Prince  Edward's  Island.  For  this  to  be  Newfound- 
land, the  wind  should  have  been  from  the  south  or 
the  south-west ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that  it  has  been 
generally  from  a  northerly  direction." 

"  I  don't  think  anything  of  the  kind,"  said  Bart ; 
"  I  think  it's  been  from  a  westerly  direction,  and 
that  this  is  some  part  of  Nova  Scotia  or  Cape 
Breton."  *  j 

"  Sure,  an  I  agree  with  Tom,"  said  Pat,  "  about 
the  wind,  only  I  don't  think  that  this  is  Prince 
Edward's  Island  ;  it's  too  high  —  so  it  is  —  and  it's 
meself  that  wouldn't  be  a  bit  surprised  if  it  should 
turrun  out  to  be  the  Magdalen  Islands  after  all." 

"  0,  no,"  said  Bruce,  "  it's  too  long  in  extent  for 
the  Magdalen  Islands.  I  think  it  may  be  some  part 
of  the  New  Brunswick  coast,  perhaps  Miramichi, 
—  for  it  seems  to  me  that  the  wind  has  generally 
come  from  the  east." 

"  So  it  seems  to  me,"  said  Arthur ;  "  but,  Bruce, 
an  east  wind  couldn't  take  us  to  Miramichi;  it 
would  bring  us  a  good  distance  to  the  north  of 
that,  fronl  the  place  where  we  were.  It  seems  to 
me  that  this  must  be  Gaspe,  —  and  if  so,  we  won't 
be  very  far  away  from  the  Bay  de  Chaleur." 

"  Well,  well,"  cried  Pat,  with  a  laugh,  "  sure  it's 


DISCUSSION  ABOUT  SALVAGE. 


1195 


the  whole  surroundin  coasts  that  we've  gone  over, 
so  it  is,  an  every  one  of  us  has  put  her  in  a  differ- 
ent place  from  every  one  else.  One  comfort  is, 
that  some  of  us'll  have  to  be  right,  an  so  I'll  stick, 
so  I  will,  to  the  Magdalen  Islands,  an  if'  it  is,  why 
sure  we're  certain  of  good  intertainmont,  so  we 
are,  ivery  one  of  us."  •• '"    •  -   J 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  Bruce,  cheerily,  "  perhaps, 
iifter  all,  this  is  about  tlie  best  thing  that  could 
have  happcTied  to  us." 

"  I  don't  see  why,"  said  Tom.  :        ;         ■ 

"  Why,  you  know  the  very  reason  that  Captain 
Corbet  went  away  was  to  get  sails  to  bring  this  ship 
to  some  land.  The  very  thing  we  all  wanted  was 
to  get  her  to  some  land.  Well,  here  we've  been 
drifting  along,  and  now,  lo  and  behold  I  here  is  the 
land  that  we  wanted  to  reach." 

"  Yes  ;  but  how  can  we  get  her  to  any  port  ? 
We've  got  no  sails,  and  we  can't  steer  her." 

"  0,  when  we  get  nearer,  some  pilots  or  fisher- 
men will  come  ofi^"         •    ^  '     *  •'   '■ 

"  Yes ;  but  will  they  be  salvors  too  ?  "  asked  Phil, 
anxiously. 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Bruce,  in  a  lofty  tone  ; 
"  they  shall  be  nothing  of  the  kind.  We'll  hire 
them  to  help  us  bring  her  into  port.  We'll  pay 
them  liberally,  of  course."  ■•'  vut  ^^^i :m-'r<  M 
f  "  Yes,"  said  Bart,  "  and  we  won't  let  Captain 
Corbet's  absence  make  any  difference.  He  shall 
have  his  share  all  the  same  —  for  bis  not  being 
here  isn't  his  fault."  • 


196 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


"  My  idea  is,"  said  Arthur,  "  that  we'd  better 
make  a  contribution,  call  it  the  Corbet  Baby  Fund, 
and  add  it  to  his  share  for  the  sake  of  old  times, 
and  all  that  sort  of  thing.'' 

*'  Our  profits,"  Bruca  went  on  to  Bay,  in  the  same 
lofty  tone,  "  will  depend  ve^y  largely  upon  the  sort 
of  place  we  can  bring  the  ship  to.  If  this  is  Mira- 
michi,  they  ought  to  be  very  large,  —  in  fact,  the 
ship'll  bring  as  large  a  price  there  as  anywhere ; 
but  if  it's  the  Magdalen  Islands,  why,  of  course  we 
can't  expect  to  do  quite  so  well.  Still  we  ought 
to  do  well  in  almost  any  case." 
■  "I  should  like  to  know  how  we  can  get  word 
to  Captain  Corbet  again,"  .said  Arthur.  "  I'm  afraid 
he'll  feel  anxious  about  us." 

"  0,  that's  easy  enough,"  said  Bruce.  "  On 
Linling,  we  can  telegraph  to  the  Magdalen  Islands, 
and  they'll  get  word  to  him  somehow." 

"  But  there  isn't  any  cable  to  the  Magdalen 
Islands." 

"  Doesn't  the  Newfoundland  cable  pass  by 
there?"     * 

'*0,  no." 

"  0,  well,  we'll  telegraph  to  various  places,  and 
he'll  be  sure  to  hear  sooner  or  later." 

"  I  wonder  what's  become  of  him  ?  "  said  Phil. 

"  I  dare  say  he's  cruising  about  the  gulf  every- 
where, asking  every  vessel  he  meets  about  us." 

"  I  only  hope,  then,  he'll  meet  with  more  vessels 
than  we  have." 


THE  BOYS  STILL   PUZZLED. 


197 


"  It's  a  very  curious  thing  that  we  haven't  seen 
any  vessels," 

"  0,  I  suppose  we've  drifted  out  of  the  way  of 
the  fishing  vessels  and  the  timber  ships.  I  dare 
say  the  fishing  vessels  keep  generally  to  the  same 
places,  for  fishes  must  be  more  abundant  in  some 
spots  than  in  others,  and,  us  to  the  timber  ship;^, 
they  try  to  keep  as  much  as  possible  in  one  given 
course." 

"  I  w^onder  whether  we're  drifting  towards  that 
land,  or  past  it." 

^'  0,  well,  we  didn't  see  it  yesterday,  and  we  do 
see  it  to-day,  which  proves  that  we  have  drifted 
towards  it  during  the  night ;  and  from  this  it  fol- 
lows that  we  will  be  likely  to  continue  drifting 
towards  it.  When  wo  get  pretty  close  we  must 
contrive  to  get  some  of  the  fishermen  on  the  coast 
to  help  us ;  but  I  don't  suppose  there'll  be  any 
trouble  about  that.  They'll  all  come  piling  on 
board  as  soon  as  they  catch  sight  of  us,  and  see 
our  situation." 

"  I  wonder  what  sort  of  people  they  are,"  said 
Phil.  "  Along  some  of  these  shores  they  don't  bear 
the  best  of  characters.  Some  of  the  fishing  popu- 
lation are  given  to-  wrecking." 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  that,"  said  Bruce, 
"  and  I  never  did.  I  dare  say  if  a  ship  breaks  up 
they  appropriate  what  they  can  in  a  quiet  way,  and 
when  the  owners  appear,  they  may  be  rather  loath 
to  surrender  their  spoil ;   but  wrecking,  in  its  bad 


198 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


sense,  is  not  known  here  on  these  shores.     Wreck-   ^ 
ing,  as  I  understand  it^  means  decoying  vessels 
ashore,  and  sometimes  murdering  the  shipwrecked  ■ 
crews.     And  I  never  heard  of  a  case  of  that  kind   • 
about  these  waters."  -         "•    -      •* 

.  "  Perhaps,"  suggested  Bart,  "  they  won't  feel  in-  ' 
clined  to  recognize  our  ownersliip.     I  confess  I 
don't  feel  myself  a  very  strong  confidence  in  our  ' 
claim."  ,.;iiU!.r 

"  Why  not?"  said  Bruce. 

"  0,  I  don't  know.  The  claim  don't  seem  to  be 
a  just  one ;  for  instance,  now,  if  the  owners  were 
to  appear  in  a  steam-tug  and  hitch  on,  would  you 
order  them  off? "  i  ,'?n- vn; 

"  Yes,  I  would,"  said  Bruce,  firmly ;  "  of  course  I 
would.  I  would  hire  them  to  tow  our  ship  and 
cargo  into  port,  and  pay  them  liberally,  of  course  ; 
but  as  to  recognizing  them  as  being  owners,  so 
long  as  we,  the  salvors,  were  on  board,  I  would  do 
nothing  of  the  kind.  The  moment  the  captain  and 
crew  deserted  the  Petrel,  that  moment  they  lost  all 
claims  to  her,  on  their  own  account  and  on  account 
of  their  employers.  The  owners  after  that  must 
look  to  the  insurance  companies,  while  we  gain 
the  benefits  of  good  fortune  and  our  own  bold- 


ness. 


ji 


Bruce  spoke  all  this  in  the  most  cool  and  confi- 
dent manner  in  the  world,  and  in  the  same  tone  as 
though  the  Petrel  was  lying  in  some  safe  harbor, 
and  he  and  the  boys  were  contemplating  her,  and 


SOLOMON   SPEAKS. 


199 


I 


ifi- 

as 

lor, 

nd 


considering  her  from  a  cosy  nook  on  the  wharf. 
Yet  all  the  time  the  ship  was  pitching,  and  tossing, 
and  straining,  and  the  waves  boiled  around,  and 
the  seas  rolled  in  foam  over  her  deck. 

The  conversation  was  at  length  interrupted  by 
Solomon. 

His  head  and  shoulders  were  projecting  from 
the  skylight.  Ho  was  standing  on  the  cabin 
table. 

"  Ise  ben  a  tryin,  chilen,"  said  he,  "  an  a  deav- 
orin  to  git  up  some  kine  ob  a  fire  down  heah,  but  I 
ben  an  made  it  six  or  seben  times,  an  cbery  time, 
de  water  hab  stinguished  it.  Don  know  dat  dar's 
any  sort  o'  use  in  tryin  to  kin'l  it  agin,  specially  as 
all  de  kinlin  wood's  used  up,  an  de  res  ob  it  is 
soaked  through*  an  through.  Pears  to  me  we'll 
hab  to  do  widout  de  tea  an  coilee,  an  drink  colo 
water  dis  time,  unless  we  can  manage  to  hist  dis 
yer  stove  on  deck.  Only,  if  we  do,  it  might  turn 
out  to  be  a  leetle  mite  tottlisli."         . 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  Bart,  ''  what  do  you  say  ? 
Shall  we  try  and  get  the  stove  on  deck,  or  drink 
cold  water  ?  '^ 

^' The  stove  on  deck?  0,  nonsense  !  "  said  Ar- 
thur. ''  What's  the  odds  if  we  don't  have  tea  and 
coffee  ?  We've  got  enough  to  eat ;  we've  got  a 
precious  sight  better  supply  than  we  ever  had  on 
board  the  Antelope  —  cold  boiled  ham,  mustard, 
biscuit,  butter,  cheese,  potted  meats,  and  no  end 
of  things.     Bother  the  stove,  I  say.     Let  it  slide. 


200 


riCKICD    UP  ADRIFT. 


WliJit  do  we  want  with  it  up  hore?  We  never 
could  fix  it  in  a  tiglit  place." 

This  was  the  decision  of  all.  In  fact  all  saw  that 
any  attempt  to  hoist  up  the  stove  would  have  been 
absurd.  The  ship  was  pitching  and  tossing  too 
much  to  make  such  a  task  practicable. 

So  Solomon  came  forth,  having  been  driven 
from  the  cabin,  as  he  had  formerly  been  driven 
from  the  cook's  galley ;  but  not  for  this  did  he 
lose  any  of  his  equanimity.  He  proceeded  to 
lay  out  the  breakfast  as  well  as  he  could  upon  the 
skylight,  piling  up  the  mattresses  in  a  dry  place, 
and  laying  the  table  with  a  regard  rather  to  use 
than  to  show.  He  tacitly  assumed  that  under  the 
circumstances  the  breakfast  would  be  somewhat 
informal,  and  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  risk 
plates  and  cups  by  putting  them  where  they  would 
be  certain  to  be  flung  off  by  the  motion  of  the  ship. 
The  table  was  therefore  rudely  spread,  but  the  eat- 
ables were  all  that  could  be  desired. 

After  breakfast  the  day  went  on,  and  the  boys 
watched  hour  after  hour  the  distant  shore.  By 
midday  it  had  grown  much  more  distinct,  and  they 
knew  that  they  were  drawing  nearer.  A  few  hours 
after  they  had  drawn  still  nearer. 

But  the  nearer  they  came  the  less  satisfaction 
did  they  feel  in  the  aspect  of  the  land.  The  most 
careful  examination  through  the  glass  failed  to 
show  the  slightest  sign  of  life.  No  houses  ap- 
peared, no  tilled  fields,  no  j)astures  even,  no  clear- 


BRUCE  HOPEFUL. 


201 


ings  of  any  kind ;  but  a  rocky  shore,  with  a 
wooded  country  behind,  was  all  that  they  could 
see. 

"  0,  well,  boys,'*  said  Bruce,  "  this  is  the  way  it 
is  almost  every  where  around  these  coasts  ;  but  I 
dare  say  Miramichi  settlement  is  only  a  few  miles 
away,  and  we  may  find  a  fisherman's  hut  in  some 
cove  close  by." 


)ur8 


tion 

lost 

to 

ap- 

jar- 


/■■c  ■    :  -^  \      .,  /. 


,>?-;*■;. 


\.\' 


r 


202 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


i'^/ 


if    » ' 


'•.-*,'  , 


XV.   , 


A  miserable  Day.  —  Keeping  their  Courage  up.  — 
Solomon  unmoved.  —  The  Cook  triumphs  over  the 
Man.  —  A  big  Wave.  —  A  Shower-bath.  —  Heller- 
skelter.  —  All  in  a  Heap,  —  Flight.  —  Tlie  Big- 
ging.  —  Solomon  ventures  his  Life  for  a  Ham  Bone. 
—  Bemarks.  —  Flight  farther-  up.  —  The  Mizzen- 
top.  —  The  Fugitives.  —  Pat  ties  himself  to  the 
Mast.  —  Bemonstrances.  —  Fat  is  obdurate,  — 
Night,  and  Storm,  and  Darkness. 


fLL  through  that  day  the  sea  continued  as 
rough  as  at  first,  and  the  wind  blew  a^ 
strongly.  In  the  afternoon  the  wind  came 
up  more  fiercely,  and  far  surpassed  anything  they 
had  experienced  since  they  had  boarded  the 
Petrel.  It  sang  and  roared  through  the  rigging, 
and  so  great  was  its  powei',  that  there  was  a  per- 
ceptible list  in  the  ship  in  spite  of  the  tremen- 
dous weight  of  her  cargo  and  water-logged  hull. 
Soon  the  increasing  wind  stirred  up  the  sea  to 
greater  fury,,  and  the  ship  began  to  labor  most  fear- 
fully.    Every  hour  made  it  worse  ;  and  at  length 


^-■w^. 


A   MISERABLE  DAY. 


2Q3 


ed  as 
w  a'^ 
came 
they 
the 

per- 
:^men- 

liull. 
ea  to 
;.  fear- 
mgth 


the  whole  ship  forward  seemed  to  be  perpetually 
submerged,  for  nothing  could  be  seen  of  its  deck, 
and  the  foaming  waves  rolled  backward  and  for- 
ward, and  boiled,  and  seethed,  and  swept  resist- 
lessly  to  and  fro.  Sometimes  a  dozen  huge  waves 
in  succession  broke  in  thunder  on  the  helpless 
ship  which  lay  beneath  them,  and  received  these 
mountain  torrents,  quivering  and  groaning  in 
every  plank  and  beam. 

By  this  time  the  boys  had  certainly  become 
accustomed  to  the  creaking  and  groaning  of  the 
straining  ship,  but  this  surpassed  all  that  they  had 
yet  seen,  and  filled  them  with  awe.  They  stood 
tliere  looking  at  the  scene  ;  the  land  was  now 
forgotten.  It  had  lost  its  interest.  The  feeling 
began  to  arise  that  perhaps  they  might  never 
reach  those  shores,  and  if  they  did  turn  a  glance 
any  longer  in  that  direction,  it  was  solely  in  order 
to  measure  the  intervening  distance,  and  try 
whether  it  might  be  possible  for  the  ship  to 
reach  the  shore  before  going  to  pieces.     '^    r  ■  -r 

Solomon  alone  stood  unmoved.  Faithful  to  the 
last,  with  his  one  idea,  the  performance  of  his  duty, 
Solomon  prepared  the  evening  meal.  The  cook 
triaraphed  over  the  man,  and  professional  feeling 
rose  superior  to  the  frailties  of  humanity.  It  was 
ham  that  they  would  have,  and  biscuit,  and  butter. 
They  should  have  cheese,  too,  and  sardines. 
Pickles  and  mustard  should  not  be  wanting.  And 
Solomon  laid  these  on  the  skylight,  one  by  one, 


204 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


solemnly  and  in  silence,  as  though  the  conscious- 
ness  was  present  in  his  breast  that  this  meal 
might  be  the  last  on  board.  Never  before  had 
he  arranged  a  repast  more  deliberately  and  more 
thoughtfully.  The  table  was  set  under  circum- 
stances  which,  indeed,  required  deliberation  and 
thought.  The  pitching  of  the  ship  w^as  so  violent, 
that  it  required  the  most  careful  management  to 
induce  the  things  to  lie  in  their  places ;  and  it  was 
only  by  covering  the  biscuit  with  bits  of  board, 
that  he  succeeded  in  keeping  them  to  their  places. 
With  the  ham  he  had  a  long  struggle,  but  finally 
tied  it  with  rope-yarn  to  the  skylight.  As  to  the 
smaller  articles,  he  had  to  leave  them  in  the  chest. 

Solomon  was  just  returning  for  the  last  time, 
carrying  a  piece  of  cheese  and  a  box  of  sardines ; 
the  boys  were  seated  on  the  edge  of  the  skylight, 
waiting  for  the  preparations  to  be  completed, 
when  suddenly  the  stern  of  the  ship  went  down, 
down,  down,  very  much  farther  than  they  had  ever 
known  it  to  descend  before.  An  awful  thought 
seized  upon  all :  the  ship  was  sinking !  Every 
one  started  wildly  up,  clutching  at  anything  that 
happened  to  be  nearest,  without  knowing  what 
they  were  doing,  and  looking  fearfully  through 
the  opening  at  the  end  of  their  shelter. 

It  was  a  terrific  sight  that  appeared  in  that 
direction. 

There  rose  a  wall  of  water,  black,  towering  high 
in  wrathful  menace,  with  its  crest  boiling  in  white 


A   BIG  WAVE. 


205 


5C10US- 

I   meal 
re  had 
,  more 
lircum- 
•n   and 
violent, 
lent  to 
it  was 
board, 
places, 
finally 
to  the 
)  chest. 
,t  time, 
rdines ; 
y  light, 
pleted, 
down, 
d  ever 
ought 
Every 
g  that 
what 
rough 

that 

high 
white 


foam.  For  a  few  moments  that  great  mass  hung 
poised  above  them ;  and  then,  with  terrific  fury, 
and  with  resistless  might,  it  descended  in  thunder 
upon  them.  For  a  few  moments  all  was  the  black- 
ness of  darkness,  and  the  boys  struggled  despair- 
ingly with  the  rolling,  overwhelming,  foaming 
waters,  which  swept  them  helplessly  about.  The 
thought,  and  the  only  thought  in  every  mind,  wiis, 
that  the  ship  was  going  down,  and  with  this  con- 
viction that  the  last  hour  of  life  had  come,  there 
rose  from  each  a  short  prayer,  gasped  out  in  that 
moment  of  agony. 

It  seemed  ages ;  but  at-  length  the  ship  slowly 
struggled  up,  and  the  waters  rolled  away.  For 
a  few  moments  they  all  lay  where  they  had  been 
thrown,  heaped  up  together ;  and  then  they  strug- 
gled to  their  feet,  and  each  began  to  call  after 
the  others.  To  their  great  joy  they  found  that 
they  all  were  there,  and  that,  except  a  few  bruises 
more  or  less  severe,  no  evil  had  been  incurred. 
But  the  tarpaulins  had  been  torn  from  the  fasten- 
ings, and  blown  away  by  the  fury  of  the  wind,  and 
the  boys  had  been  saved  from  a  similar  fate  only  by 
the  quarter-deck  rail,  against  which  they  had  been 
flung.  To  this  rail  they  clung  as  they  rose  to 
their  feet,  and  for  a  short  time  stood  clinging 
there,  not  knowing  what  to  do. 

But  from  this  stupor  they  were  roused  by  the 
voice  of  Solomon. 

"  Chilen,"  said  he,  "  de  suppa  am  'sposed  of,  an 


206 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


you  got  to  go  wicloiit  it  dis  bressed  night.  No 
use  settin  do  table  figin.  Don't  pay  in  dis  yer 
weather.  Anybody  dat  wants  anytin  to  eat,  had 
bes  go  to  de  barl  or  de  trunk  an  fish  for  hisself. 
Dpre  all  full  ob  salt  water,  and  dem  dat's  fond  ob 
salt  junk  can  get  deir  fill."  -        >,v. 

None  of  the  boys,  however,  showed  any  disposi- 
tion to  eat.  This  last  wave  had  destroyed  all 
appetite.  It  had  showed  them  how  the  wind  had 
increased.  They  had  hoped  all  along  that  the 
quarter-deck  would  be  spared,  and  that  they 
would  be  safe  there  ;  but  now  this  hope  was  lost ; 
where  one  wave  had  come,  others  were  sure  to  fol- 
low, and  the  prospects  for  the  night  were  dark 
and  dismal  indeed.  For  the  night  was  before 
them.  The  sun  was  already  going  down  ;  the  sky 
looked  lowering,  and  dark,  and  menacing ;  the 
wind  had  grown  to  a  gale,  and  all  around  the 
waters  seemed  waiting  to  ingulf  them.  Once 
they  had  wondered  why  the  captain  and  crew  had 
fled  from  the  ship ;  now  they  understood  but  too 
well  the  reason  of  that  flight.  The  idea  of  salvage 
seemed  now  to  all  of  them  a  tniserable  mockery. 
What  would  they  not  have  given  to  have  escaped 
from  this  ship  to  any  place  of  safet}^  ?  Even  the 
days  of  famine  on  board  the  Antelope  seemed  less 
terrible  than  the  fate  that  now  frowned  wrathfully 
upon  them  out  of  the  lowering  night. 

"  It  won't  do  to  stay  here,"  said  Bruce.  "  Another 
wave'll  follow.    Let's  get  higher  up,  out  of  the  way." 


:.  No 
is  yer 
it,  had 
lisself. 
nd  ob 


lisposi- 
'ed   all 
id  had 
at   the 
5    they 
s  lost; 
3  to  fol- 
e  dark 
before 
lie  sky 
;   the 
d  the 
Once 
w  had 
ut  too 
alvage 
ckery. 
caped 
en  the 
d  less 
hfully 

lother 
way." 


FLIGHT   TO   THE    RIGGING. 


207 


"  Where  can  we  go  ?  "  asked  Tom.      i      ■  ;' 

"Up  in  the  rigging,"  said  Bruce.  "  Come." 
Saying  this,  he  climbed  up  the  mizzen  shrouds  for 
a  little  distance  on  the  windward  side.  The  others 
followed.  Last  of  all  came  Solomon,  who  took 
up  his  station  below  them  all  as  though  to  guard 
them.  J 

There  they  all  clung,  and  watched  with  awful 
eyes  the  scene  below.  It  seemed  for  some  time 
as  though  they  had  been  premature  in  deserting 
the  quarter-deck,  for  no  wave  followed  that  moun- 
tair  billow  which  had  precipitated  itself  upon 
them.  But  the  recollection  of  that  one  wave  was 
enough ;  and  though  its  successor  came  not  for 
some  time,  still  they  all  confidently  expected  it. 
They  knew  that  it  would  come  before  long,  fol- 
lowed by  many  others,  for  the  sea  grew  higher 
every  minute,  and  the  wrath  of  its  waters  grew 
more  wild.  Forward  all  was  a  sea  of  foam,  and  the 
quarter-deck  appeared  beneath  them  like  a  raft 
over  which  they  hung  as  they  clung  to  the 
shrouds.    •.       .         '      ;.,.:.  .   •  r.:    , 

They  *did  not  climb  far  up.  They  were  not 
more  than  ten  feet  above  the  deck,  having  rested  at 
this  point,  so  that  they  might  be  out  of  the  reach  of 
the  waves  and  no  more.  Abgut  their  lost  repast 
they  did  not  think  for  one  moment.  That  wave 
which  had  swept  away  their  supper,  had  carried 
with  it  all  thoughts  and  all  desires  concerning  it. 
The  only  one  who  gave  it  a  thought  was  Solomon, 


208 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


who,  even  now,  was  still  true  to  his  professional 
duties  ;  and  seeing  the  boiled  ham  lying  against 
the  quarter-deck  railing,  in  the  very  place  where 
it  had  been  flung,  ho  leaped  down,  at  the  peril  of 
his  life,  hastily  seized  it,  pitched  it  into  the  trunk, 
and  then  clambered  back  again. 

^^  Bonn  to  skewer  dat  ar  ham  dis  yer  time,"  said 
he,  in  a  soliloquizing  tone.  "  No  use  lettin  de  win 
an  de  sea  hab  it  all  deir  own  way,  nohow.  Dat  ar 
ham's  too  precious  to  be  lost,  an  I'se  boun  to  serve 
it  up  yet  for  breakfus  to-morrow,  when  de  storm 
goes  down.  Lucky  we  didn't  try  to  hist  up  dat  ar 
cabin  stove.  Jerusalem !  wouldn't  it  hab  spun 
overboard  ?  Would  so.  But  it's  down  deep  'nough 
now  in  de  water,  for  de  cabin's  chock  full.  Don't 
ebber  'member  bein  so  'stuvbed  before  in  all  my 
cookin  'sperience  ;  an  watobbers  goin  to  be  de 
suit  ob  it  all's  more'n  I  can  tell.  Beats  all ;  an  dese 
yer  chilen's  all  boun  to  catch  deir  defF  ob  cold.'^ 

At  this  Solomon  raised  his  head,  and  looked  at 
each  one  of  the  boys  in  succession.  He  saw  them 
all  wet  to  the  skin,  with  the  water  dripping  from 
their  clothes,  and  their  hands  clutching'  fast  the 
rigging.  It  was  a  painful  sight,  too  painful:  he 
turned  away  his  face,  and  drops  of  brine  ran  down 
his  face  which  did  npt  come  from  the  sea. 

Suddenly  a  thunderous  sound  arose,  which  made 
every  one  look  in  terror  towards  the  place  from 
which  it  came.  It  was  forward.  In  an  instant 
they  saw  it  all.     Several  great  waves  had  fallen 


A  RAGING  STORM. 


209 


there  in  swift  succession,  striking  amidships  full 
upon  a  round-house  which  stood  tliere,  and  was 
used  for  the  reception  of  deck  cargoes.  The  force 
of  these  blows  was  resistless;  the  structure 
yielded  with  a  crash,  and  gave  way  utterly.  For  a 
moment  it  was  brought  up  against  the  ship's  bul- 
warks, but  the  waters  poured  in  underneath,  floated 
it  far  upward,  and  tumbled  it  over  into  the  sea. 
There  it  floated  at  the  mercv  of  the  waves,  farther 
and  farther  away,  while  the  raging  billows,  like 
hungry  wolves,  encompassed  it  on  every  side. 

The  boys  had  already  felt  sufficiently  awed  by 
the  scene  around  to  be  hushed  into  silence,  but 
about  this  last  event  there  was  something  so 
appalling  that  they  all  uttered  an  involuntary 
cry,  and  clung  more  closely  to  the  rigging,  each 
one  looking  at  his  neighbor  with  a  face  of  despair. 
For  the  only  thought  now  present  to  each  one  was, 
that  the  ship  was  breaking  up,  and  that  utter  ruin 
and  destruction  was  imminent.  The  crash  of  the 
wave,  as  it  struck  the  massive  structure  and 
tore  it  away,  was  so  tremendous  that  the  boys 
might  well  have  dreaded  the  worst ;  and  the  sight 
of  it  now,  as  it  tossed  and  tumbled  in  the  boiling 
floods,  had  in  it  something  so  terribly  suggestive 
of  their  own  fate,  that  they  shuddered  and  turned 
their  eyes  away.   :    .  ,  .  ; 

But  suddenly  Solomon^s  voice  broke  the  silence. 

"  Dar,"  said  he ;  "  dar's  how  I  knowed  it  was 
goin  for  to  be.     I  bet  high  on  de  cook's  galley. 

14 


210 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


Dem  dar  round-houses  only  built  for  show;  dey 
got  no  rail  strenf*.  Now  de  cook's  galley  down 
dar  ain't  goin  to  gib  way  dat  fashium ;  she's  boun 
to  Stan,  jes  like  de  rock  ob  Gibberalter,  an  de 
stove  too,  —  dat's  so.'^  .      : 

There  was  something  in  Solomon's  tone  which 
was  so  cool  and  matte r-ol-fact  that  the  others  felt  a 
little  reassured,  and  recovered  a  little  of  their 
former  coolness.  They  saw  that  the  ship  was  still 
holding  together,  and  as  the  waves  rolled  back, 
they  saw  the  smooth  firm  deck  where  the  round- 
house had  stood,  and  learned  from  this  that  the 
round-house  did  not  constitute  a  portion  of  the  ship, 
but  was  merely  an  erection  on  that  deck,  and  there- 
fore to  some  extent  a  movable. 

But  Solomon's  confidence  in  the  cook's  galley 
was  by  no  means  warranted  by  facts.  Thus  far  it 
had  been  protected  to  some  extent  from  the  sweep 
of  the  waves  by  the  round-house,  and  the  loss  of 
this  barrier  left  it  all  exposed  to  the  full  fury  of 
the  waters.  For  some  time  it  bore  up  gallantly, 
and  as  each  wave  rolled  over  it,  Solomon  cheered 
exultantly,  to  see  it  come  forth  erect  from  the 
rolling  torrents.  At  length,  however,  Solomon's 
exultant  cries  grew  fainter,  and  finally  ceased 
altogether.  For  the  galley  was  shaking,  and 
quivering,  and  yielding.  At  length  one  side 
started,  and  was  beaten  out;  the  rest  soon  fol- 
lowed, until  all  was  crushed  to  fragments,  and  its 
separate  portion  hurled  out  upon  the  angry  sea. 


THE   EFF^T  OF  SOLOMON'S   WORDS. 


211 


jalley 

far  it 

jweep 

)SS   of 
ry  of 
antly, 
eered 
the 
mon's 
eased 
and 
side 
n  fol- 
d  its 
ea. 


"  Anyhow,"  said  Solomon,  "  dat  ar  galley  held 
out  pooty  tough,  mind  I  tell  you  ;  an  dar's  de 
stove  yet,  as  large  as  life,  an  it's  goin  to  take  a 
good  many  waves  afore  they'll  be  able  to  start 
her.  Yes,  dat  ar  stove's  goin  to  hold  on,  mind  I 
tell  you ;  an  Ise  a  goin  to  bile  a  kittlp  ob  water 
on  her  yet,  you  see.     Will  so."      ' 

Whether  Solomon  really  meant  what  he  said,  is 
an  open  question.  He  may  have  really  believed 
it  all,  or,  as  is  most  probable,  he  may  have  ex- 
pressed himself  in  this  way  merely  for  the  pur- 
pose of  giving  courage  and  confidence  to  the  boys, 
and  preventing  them  from  sinking  into  despair. 
Certain  it  is  that  his  words  had  this  effect ;  and 
seeing  that  the  loss  of  the  round-house  and  galley 
had  made  no  material  difference  in  the  ship  her- 
self, they  clung  to  hope,  and  tried  to  believe  that 
the  stout  hull,  with  its  firm  cargo,  would  ride  out 
the  storm.        '      '  ^  ^  •  '  ■    •        ■-/•■r 

But  by  this  time  the  sun  had  set ;  and  now,  in 
addition  to  their  other  troubles,  there  was  added 
the  dismal  prospect  of  the  coming  niglit.  Dark, 
indeed,  would  that  night  be  to  all  of  them.  Fear- 
ful enough  was  their  position  already  ;  but  when, 
in  addition  to  this,  they  would  find  the  light  of  day 
cut  off,  and  the  horror  of  great  darkness  all  around, 
what  support  could  they  find  for  their  sinking 
souls,  or  what  hope  of  escape  ?  Already  the  land 
was  fading  out  of  sight,  lost  in  the  gathering 
shadows  of  evening.     By  the  dim  twilight  they 


212 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFJ. 


could  see  that  they  had  drawn  much  nearer,  and 
their  distance  seemed  now  but  a  few  miles.  Thus 
^ir  they  had  regarded  the  laud  only  with  pleasure ; 
now,  however,  as  the  night  came  down,  and  the 
darkness  deepened,  and  the  storm  increased,  they 
began  to  experience  other  feelings  with  regard  to 
this  dreary  shore.  That  it  was  rocky  and  forbid- 
ding they  had  already  seen,  nor  had  they  hitherto 
been  able  to  detect  any  part  of  the  coast  here 
which  was  at  all  inviting  or  favorable  to  a  landing. 
If  in  such  a  storm  the  ship  should  be  driven  upon 
such  a  shore,  what  could  save  her  from  being 
shattered  to  pieces  ?  If  in  such  a  darkness  they 
were  driven  upon  those  rocks,  what  could  save 
them  from  destruction?  Yet  towards  that  un- 
known shore  they  were  every  moment  drawing 
nearer,  and  wind  and  tide  seemed  alike  to  urge 
them  onward  towards  it. 

It  was  not  yet  dark,  when  suddenly  a  giant  wave 
rose  high  from  underneath  the  stern,  and  hung 
suspended  over  the  quarter-deck.  It  was  the 
counterpart  of  that  wave  which  had  struck  them 
an  hour  before.  For  a  few  moments  it  hung, 
poised  and  quivering,  and  then  it  fell,  in  thunder, 
down.  It  poured  all  over  the  barrels  of  biscuit 
that  were  lashed  to  the  mizzen-mast,  it  swept  down 
through  the  skylight  into  the  cabin,  it  rolled  in  a 
flood  over  the  deck,  and  rushed  forward,  pouring 
down,  and  blending  its  waters  with  those  that 
«   boiled  and  foamed  amidships. 


UP  IN  THE   MIZZEN-TOP. 


213 


nder, 
scuit 
down 

in  a 
uring 

that 


The  ship  now  Beemed  unable  to  rise.  She 
seemed  to  have  sunk  into  some  vortex,  and  being 
without  anything  like  buoyancy,  the  waters  held 
her  fast.  Wave  after  wave  rolled  in,  and  poured 
over  the  quarter-deck.  The  whole  ship,  from  stem 
to  stern,  seemed  to  be  one  mass  of  foam.  The 
hull  was  lost  to  sight.  They  seemed  supported 
by  masts  that  rose  out  of  the  sea.  Destruction 
appeared  close  at  hand.  Clinging  to  the  rigging 
with  death-like  tenacity  they  could  only  murmur 
their  prayers  of  despair  to  that  mighty  unseen 
Being  who  holds  the  waters  in  the  hollow  of  his 
hand. 

At  length,  shuddering,  and  groaning,  and  trem- 
bling in  every  fibre,  like  some  living  thing,  the 
ship  struggled  up  out  of  the  mass  of  waters,  and 
freed  herself  for  a  time.  The  boys  could  see 
the  quarter-deck.  They  could  see  the  barrels 
lashed  to  the  mizzen-mast  still  secure.  They 
breathed  more  freely.  It  seemed  as  though  they 
had  received  a  reprieve,  —  as  though  their  despair- 
ing cries  had  been  heard  and  answered. 

"  Boys,"  said  Bruce,  "  we  can't  hang  here  all 
night.  .We'll  fall  off.  Let's  go  up  higher.  There's 
room  for  all  of  us,  I  think,  in  the  mizzen-top. 
Come."  .         .    . 

With  these  words  he  started  upward.  The 
rest  followed.  Solomon  went  up  last.  They  all 
reached  the  mizzen-top  in  safety,  and,  on  reaching 
it,  found  that  it  was  spacious  enough  to  afford 
room  for  them  all. 


2U 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


ITere  Pat  proceeded  to  possess  himself  of  a 
line  wliich  ran  tliroiigh  a  block  close  by,  after 
wliicli  he  began  to  tie  himself  to  the  mast. 

"  What  are  you  up  to,  Fat  ? "  asked  Bart,  in 
some  wonder. 

"  Sure  it's  tying  meself  to  the  mast,  I  am,  so 
it  is." 

"  Tying  yourself  to  the  mast  ?  "  repeated  Bart, 
in  amazement.     '•  What  in  the  world  is  that  for?  " 

"What  is  it  for?"  said  Pat.  "Sure  and  what 
else  is  it  that  people  always  do  in  shipwrecks  ? 
It's  the  reg'lar  thing,  so  it  is."_ 

"  Well,  for  my  part,"  said  Bart,  "  I'd  rather  have 
my  hands  free.  If  this  mast  should  go  over,  I'd 
rather  not  be  fastened  to  it  as  tight  as  that.  You'd 
better  not." 

"  Sure  an  won't  I  float  ashore  on  it  without  any 
trouble  ?  "  * 

"  Yes  ;  only  the  trouble  may  be  to  keep  your 
head  above  water.     Don't  do  it,  Pat." 

But  Pat  was  deaf  to  argument.  Slowly,  but 
pertinaciously  and  securely,  he  wound  the  rope 
round  and  round  the  mast,  binding  himself  to  it 
tighter  at  every  turn. 

"  Ye'd  best  follow  my  lade,"  said  Pat.  "  There's 
enough  left  in  this  bit  of  a  line  to  tie  ye's  all  fast 
and  firrum,  so  there  is." 

But  the  others  refused.  They  preferred  liberty 
of  action,  and  did  not  like  the  idea  of  swathing 
themselves  up  like  mummies.     They  wished  to  be 


in 


so 


ALOPT   IN   A   NIGHT  STORM. 


215 


able  occasionally,  if  possible,  to  lie  down,  or  sit 
down,  and  not  remain  all  night  on  their  feet. 

Thus  there  they  stood  in  the  mizzen-top.  And 
the  niglit  came  d6wn,  and  the  darkness  gathered 
deeper  and  deeper  around  them.  And  the  storm 
rose  to  its  height,  and  night,  and  storm,  and  dark- 
ness,  in  all  their  terrific  power,  environed  them  as 
they  stood  in  their  giddy  perch.  *  ;    ■ 


^'iu' 


uy.i 


•'.;3..'.i- 


.0''>.ill  ''J if] 


l,/v-^'.ii?,i-sw. '/. 


216 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


■•>;  I 


h'- 


■'f 


XYI. 


Nir/ht,  and  Storm,  and  Darkness.  —  The  giddy 
Perch.  —  The  trembling  Ship.  —  The  quivering 
Masts.  —  A  Time  of  Terror.  —  Silence  and  De- 
spair.  —  A  Ray  of  Hope.  —  Subsidence  of  Wind 
and  Wave.  —  Descent  of  the  Boys.  —  Sufferings 
of  Pat.  —  In  the  Mizzen-top.  —  Vigil  of  Bart.  — 
The  Sound  of  the  Surf  —  The  Rift  in  the  Cloud. 
—  Land  near.  —  The  white  Line  of  Breakers.  — 
The  black  Face  of  Solomon.  —  All  explained.  — 
The  Boat  and  the  Oars.  —  The  friendly  Cove.  — 
Land  at  last. 

^i^IGIIT,  and  storm,  and  darkness  I 
In  There,  in  their  gij3dy  perch  in  the  mizzen- 
C^  top,  stood  that  despairing  little  band.  Grad- 
ually all  the  scene  was  lost  to  view  in  thick  dark- 
ness. But  beneath,  the  ship  tossed  and  pitched 
wild!/,  groaning  and  creaking  as  before,  and  the 
big  waves  beat  in  fury  on  her  bows,  or  fell  in  thun- 
der on  her  quarter-deck.  Looking  down,  they  saw 
the  phosphorescent  gleam  of  the  boiling  waters, 
which  made  all  the  extent  of  the  ship  luminous 


THE  TREMBLING   SHIP. 


217 


with  a  baleful  lustre,  and  wide  over  the  seaa  ex- 
tended the  same  glow.  Well  it  was  for  them  that 
they  had  sought  this  place  of  retreat,  or  rather 
that  this  place  of  retreat  had  been  left  open  to 
them,  for  clinging  to  the  rigging  would  have  ex- 
hausted their  strength,  and  through  those  long 
hours  more  than  one  might  have  fallen  into  the 
sea.  But  as  it  was  they  could  have  something  like 
rest,  and,  by  changing  their  positions,  find  relief 
for  their  wearied  frames. 

Yet  this  place  had  its  own  terrors,  which  were 
fully  equal  to  any  others.  The  wind  howled  fear- 
fully through  the  rigging,  and  as  the  ship  pitched 
and  tossed,  the  mast  strained  and  quivered  in  uni- 
son. Often  and  often  it  seemed  to  them  that  the 
strained  mast  would  suddenly  snap  and  go  over  the 
side,  or,  if  not,  that  in  its  violent  jerks  it  might 
hurl  them  all  over  to  destruction.  More  than  once 
they  thought  of  guarding  against  this  last  danger 
by  following  Pat's  example,  and  binding  themselves 
to  the  rigging ;  but  they  were  deterred  from  this 
by  the  fear  of  the  mast  falling,  in  which  case  they, 
too,  would  be  helpless.  Fortunate  it  was  for  them 
that  there  were  no  sails.  These  had  long  since 
been  rent  away ;  but  had  they  been  here  now,  or 
had  the  wind  taken  any  stronger  hold  of  the  masts, 
they  must  have  gone  by  the  board. 
'  Often  and  often,  as  some  larger  wave  than  usual 
struck  the  ship,  the  feeling  came  that  all  was  over, 
and  that  now,  at  last,  her  break-up  was  beginning ; 


218 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


often  and  often,  as  she  sank  far  down,  and  the 
waters  rolled  over  her  quarter,  and  held  her  there, 
the  fear  came  to  them  that  at  last  her  hour  had 
come — that  she  was  sinking;  and  with  this  fear 
they  looked  down,  expecting  to  see  the  waters 
rise  to  where  they  were  standing.  And  then,  in 
every  one  of  these  moments  of  deadly  fear,  they 
raised,  as  before,  their  cries  to  Him  who  is  able  to 
save. 

So  passed  away  hour  after  hour,  until  the  dura- 
tion of  time  seemed  endless,  and  it  was  to  all  of 
them  as  though  they  had  spent  days  in  their  place 
of  peril,  instead  of  hours  only. 

At  length  they  became  sensible  of  a  diminution 
in  the  power  of  the  wind.  At  first  they  hardly 
dared  to  believe  it,  but  after  a  time  it  became  fully 
evident  that  such  was  the  case.  The  cessation  of 
the  wind  at  once  relieved  the  ship  very  materially, 
though  the  sea  was  still  high,  and  the  waters  below 
relaxed  but  little  from  their  rage.  But  the  cessa- 
tion of  the  wind  filled  them  all  with  hope,  and  they 
now  awaited,  with  something  hke  firmness,  the  sub- 
sidence of  the  waves.  -:    .    '    .    ■    i  < 

That  subsidence  did  come,  and  was  gradually 
evident.  It  was  slow,  yet  it  was  perceptible.  They 
first  became  aware  that  those  giant  waves  no  longer 
fell  in  thunder  upon  the  quarter-deck,  and  that 
the  ship  no  longer  seemed  to  be  dragged  down 
into  those  deep,  watery  abysses  into  which  they 
had  formerly  seemed  to  be  descending. 


A   RAY  OF   HOPE. 


219 


ally 
hey 
jger 
:hat 
»wn 
ley 


"  There's  no  mistake  about  it,  boys/'  said  Bruce 
at  length,  in  tones  that  were  tremulous  with  fer- 
vent joy;  "  the  storm  is  going  down."  •  '■    = 

This  was  the  first  word  that  had  been  spoken 
for  hours*  and  the  sound  of  these  spoken  words 
itself  brought  joy  to  all  hearts.  .The  spell  was 
broken.  The  horror  vanished  utterly  from  their 
souls.  •    •  .  K     • 

"  Yes,"  cried  Bart,  in  tones  as  tremulous  as  those 
of  Bruce,  and  from  the  same  cause, —  "yes,  the 
worst  is  over  !  "  *'■  ' 

"  I  don't  mind  this  pitching,"  said  Tom ;  "  it 
seems  familiar.  I  think  to-night  has  been  equal 
to  my  night  in  the  Bay  of  Fundy  —  only  it  hasn't 
been  so  long,  and  it's  seemed  better  to  have  you 
fellows  with  me  than  being  alone." 

"  I  had  a  hard  time  in  the  woods,"  said  Phil, 
"  but  this  has  been  quite  equal  to  it." 

"Pat,"  said  Arthur,  "you've  been  doing  the 
mummy  long  enough.  You'd  better  untie  now, 
and  lie  down." 

"  Sure  an  it's  meself  that'll  be  the  proud  lad  to 
do  that  same,"  said  Pat,  "  for  it's  fairly  achin  I  am 
all  over,  so  it  is."   ,>!     -  :  :'-   ..  ^■,f^.,^  '.^  ■<  •■■AT 

With  these  words  Pat  tried  to  unbind  himself. 
But  this  was  not  so  easy.  He  had  been  leaning 
his  whole  weight  against  the  ropes,  and  his  hands 
were  quite  numb.  The  other  boys  had  to  help 
him.  This  was  a  work  of  some  difficulty,  but  it 
was  accomplished  at  last,  and  poor  Pat  sank  down 


220 


■J 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


groaning,  and  he  never  ceased  to  sigh  and  groan 
till  morning. 

Several  hours  now  passed.  The  sea  subsided 
steadily,  until  at  length  its  motion  was  compara- 
tively trifling,  not  more  than  enough  tcT  cause  a 
perpendicular  pitch  to  the  ship  of  a  few  feet,  and 
to  send  a  few  waves  occasionally  over  the  deck. 
Wearied  and  worn  out,  the  boys  determined  to  de- 
scend to  the  quarter-deck,  so  as  to  lie  down.  Pat 
was  unable  to  make  the  descent ;  so  Bart  remained 
with  him,  and  curled  himSelf  up  alongside  of  him 
on  the  mizzen-top.  The  other  boys  went  down,  and 
Solomon  also. 

Everything  there  was  wet,  but  as  the  boys  also 
were  saturated,  it  made  but  little  difference.  They 
flung  themselves  down  anywhere,  and  soon  were 
fast  asleep. 

But  in  the  main-top  Pat  was  groaning  in  his 
pain.  The  blood  was  rushing  back  into  his  be- 
numbed limbs,  and  causing  exquisite  sufi'ering. 
Bart  tried  to  soothe  him,  and  rubbed  and  chafed 
his  arms  and  hands  and  feet  and  legs  for  hours. 

At  last  Pat  grew  easier,  though  still  sufi'ering 
somewhat  from  pricking  sensations  in  his  arms  and 
legs,  and  Bart  was  allowed  to  rest  from  his  labors. 

And  now,  as  Bart  leaned  back,  he  became  aware 
of  a  very  peculiar  sound,  which  excited  all  his  at- 
tention. ,       ,,.    IV :; 

It  was  a  droning  sound,  with  a  deep,  swelling 
cadence,  and  not  long  in  duration ;  but  it  rose,  and 


THE  SOUND   OF   THE  SURF. 


221 


lai'ed 


lling 
L  and 


pealed  forth,  and  died  away,  to  be  followed  by 
other  sounds  precisely  similar  —  regular,  recur- 
rent, and  sounding  all  abroad.  It  was  nothing  like 
the  roar  of  the  waves,  nor  the  singing  of  the  wind 
through  the  rigging ;  it  was  something  different 
from  these,  yet  in  this  darkness,  and  to  this  lis- 
tener, not  less  terrible.  .        ' 

Bart  knew  it.  The  sound  was  familiar  to  his 
ears.  There  was  only  one  sound  in  Nature  of  that 
character,  nor  could  it  be  imitated  by  any  other. 
It  was  the  long  sound  of  the  surf  falling  upon  the 
shore. 

The  surf! 

What  did  that  mean  ?  - 

It  meant  that  land  was  near.     And  what  land  ? 

There  was  only  one  land  that  this  could  tell  of 
—  it  was  that  land  which  they  had  been  approach- 
ing for  days ;  the  land  which  they  had  watched  so 
closely  all  the  previous  day,  and  to  which  at  even- 
ing they  had  been  drawn  so  near.  The  name  of 
the  land  he  could  not  know,  but  he  had  seen  it, 
and  he  remembered  its  drear  and  desolate  aspect, 
its  iron-bound  shores,  its  desert  forests.  It  was 
upon  this  shore  that  the  surf  was  beating  which 
now  he  heard,  and  the  loudness  of  that  sound  told 
him  how  near  it  must  be. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  it  could  not  be  more  than 
half  a  mile  away  at  the  farthest. 

And  the  ship  was  drifting  on  !  ^; 

This  first  discovery  was  a  renewal  of  his  de- 


222 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


Bpair.  He  could  only  find  comfort  in  the  thought 
that  the  sea  had  subsided  so  greatly.  What  ought 
he  now  to  do  ? 

Ought  he  to  awake  the  boys  and  tell  them?  He 
hesitated.  i 

Pat  had  by  this  time  fallen  asleep,  worn  out  with 
weariness  and  pain.  Bart  had  not  the  heart  to 
wake  him  just  yet.  '      ' 

Suddenly  there  was  an  opening  in  the  sky  over- 
head, and  through  a  rift  in  the  clouds  the  moon 
beamed  forth.  Bart  started  up  and  looked  all 
around.     The  morn  disclosed  the  scene. 

The  sea  had  grown  much  calmer,  and  the  waves 
that  now  tossed  about  their  spray  ov^er  its  surface 
were  as  nothing  compared  to  those  which  had  beat 
upon  the  ship  during  the  night.  This  was  proba- 
bly due,  as  Bart  thought,  to  the  shelter  of  some 
headland  which  acted  as  a  breakwater.  For  as  he 
looked  he  saw  the  land  now  full  before  him.  He 
had  conjectured  rightly  from  the  sound  of  the  surf, 
and  he  now  saw  that  this  land  could  not  be  much 
more  than  a  half  mile  away. 

This  confirmation  of  his  worst  fears  overcame 
him.  He  started  to  his  feet,  and  stood  clinging  to 
the  rigging,  and  looking  at  the  land. 

How  near  I  how  fearfull}^  near  !  And  every  mo- 
ment was  drawing  the  ship  nearer.  And  what 
sort  of  a  shore  was  that  ?  Was  it  all  rocky,  or  was 
it  smooth  sand?  The  waves  were  high  enough 
there  to  create  a  tremendous  surf.     Did  that  surf 


THE   WHITE   LINE   OF  BREAKERS. 


223 


fall  on  breakers,  or  did  it  fall  on  some  gentle  beach  ? 
This  he  could  not  telL  In  vain  he  strained  his 
eyes.  He  could  see  the  white  h'ne  of  foaming 
surf,  and  beyond  this  the  dark  hills,  or  cliffs,  but 
more  than  this  he  could  make  out  nothing  definite. 
But  the  shore  was  so  near  that  their  fate  could  not 
be  very  long  delayed,  and  he  determined  to  wake 
the  boys  at  once,  leaving  Pat  to  sleep  a  little 
longer. 

With  this  intention  he  prepared  to  descend.  But 
scarce  had  he  put  one  foot  over,  when  he  saw  a 
shadowy  figure  close  by. 

"  Mas'r  Bart,"  said  a  voice. 

It  was  Solomon. 

"  I  see  you  a  movin  about,  an  I  jes  thought  I'd 
come  up  to  see  how  you  was  a  gittin  along,"  said 
Solomon. 

"  Did  you  see  the  land  ?  "  asked  Bart,  in  agitated 
tones.  '   • 

"  De  Ian  !  Sartin  sure  —  seen  it  dese  four 
hours.     Ben  a  watchin  it  ebber  so  long.'^       '     ' 

"  What  I     Why  didn't  you  wake  us  before  ?  '^ 

"  Wake  you  ?  Not  me.  What  de  use  ob  dat  ar  ? 
I  ben  kine  o'  watchin,  an  kine  o'  canterin  round  all 
de  time,  seein  dat  de  tings  are  all  straight ;  an  I 
got  de  galley  stove  in  prime  order,  an  if  youns 
don't  get  de  bes  breakfas  you  ebber  eat,  den  I'm  a 
useless  ole  nigga.  Sho,  now ;  go  away.  Leab 
tings  to  me,  I  tell  you." 

"  Breakfast !  "  cried  Bart,  in  amazement.   "  Why, 


224 


PICKED  UP   ADRIFT. 


we'll  drift  ashore  in  a  few  minutes.  Don't  you  see 
how  near  we  are  ?  What  shall  we  do  ?  Is  the 
boat  gone  ?  '* 

Solomon  put  his  head  back  for  a  few  minutes, 
and  chuckled  to  himself  in  a  kind  of  ecstasy. 

"Deboat?  0,  yes,  de  boat's  all  right.  Held 
on  tight  as  a  drum  —  de  boat  an  de  galley  stove." 

^'  0,  then,"  said  Bart,  "  come,  let's  wake  the  boys, 
and  get  her  out  at  once.  It  isn't  too  rough  for 
her  here.  We  must  get  some  pieces  of  wood  for 
paddles." 

*^  0,  dere's  lashins  ob  time  ;  neber  you  mind," 
said  Solomon.  ^'  You  jes  lie  down  an  finish  your 
nap,  an  leab  de  res  to  me." 

"  But  we're  drifting  ashore.  In  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  we'll  be  among  the  breakers." 

^'  0,  no,  Mas'r  Bart  j  not  in  a  good  many  quarter 
ob  an  hours." 

"  But  the  shore's  only  half  a  mile  away." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Solomon ;  "  an  it's  ben  jes  dat 
ar  distums  off  for  de  las  four  hour  an  more." 

"  What  I  " 

"  Dat's  so.  I  ben  a  watchin.  Hadn't  I  tole  you 
dat  ar  ?  " 

"  But  the  ship's  afloat.  She  isn't  aground.  She 
must  be  drifting  in." 

"  Dat  ar  conclusium  don^t  foller  as  a  nessary  suc- 
cumstance,"  said  Solomon,  with  dignity. 

"  Why,  what  prevents  her  from  drifting  ?  "  asked 
Bart,  in  a  puzzle. 


THE  BOAT  AND  THE  OARS. 


225 


"  De  simplest  tiug  in  de  world,"  said  Solomon  — 
'Mier  anchor." 

"  Her  anchor  !  0,"  cried  Bart,  as  a  flood  of  light 
burst  in  upon  his  mind,  and  dispelled  all  the  dark- 
ness of  his  despair  ;  "  her  anchor  !  0,  I  begin  to 
understand." 

"  Tell  you  what,"  said  Solomon ;  "  when  I  fust 
heard  dat  ar  surf  I  was  in  a  quandary,  mind  I  tell 
you.  Gib  all  up.  Was  jes  about  to  rouse  youns. 
But  fust  an  foremost  I  went  to  see  about  de  boat. 
Found  dat  all  right  an  tight.  Den  I  got  a  belay um 
pin  an  tored  off  some  strips  ob  wood  for  paddles. 
Den  T  waited  to  see  how  we  was  a  goin.  Well, 
arter  waitin  for  ebber  so  long,  de  surf  didn't  get 
any  nearer.  Tell  you  what ;  dat  ar  succumstance 
puzzled  dis  old  nigga's  head  considdable.  Sudden 
a  idee  popped  into  me.  I  ran  forad,  an  sure  enough 
I  found  de  ship's  head  off  from  de  sho,  an  felt  de 
anchor  chain  standin  out  stiff.  Den  I  knew  de 
anchor  had  caught,  and  had  fotched  her  up  all  right 
in  dis  yer  identicull  place  an  po — sitium;  an  so, 
Mas'r  Bart,  here  we  air,  anchored  hard  an  fast,  de 
boat  all  right  an  tight,  de  paddles  ready,  de  galley 
stove  ready  too,  an  de  prospek  afore  all  ob  us  ob  a 
fus'-rate  breakfas  to  ward  us  for  all  de  per'ls  an 
clamties  ob  de  night." 

Some  further  inquiries  followed  from  Bart,  which 
served  to  assure  him  still  more  of  Solomon's  vigi- 
lance ;  and  the  result  was,  that  after  a  time  he  re- 
sumed his  place  beside  Pat  in  the  mizzen-top,  and, 

15 


22G 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


curling  himself  np,  was  soon  sound  asleep.  It 
was  not  a  very  luxurious  sleeping-place,  but  it 
was  at  least  as  soft  as  the  deck  below,  where  the 
boys  had  flung  themselves^  and  it  was  also  a  trifle 
dryer.  • 

When  Bart  awoke  it  was  broad  day.  Pat  was 
gone.  He  had  awaked,  and,  finding  himself  all 
right  again,  and  seeing  the  land  close  by,  he  had 
descended  to  the  deck  to  talk  to  Solomon.  For  his 
.first  thought  had  been  a  very  natural  one,  namely, 
that  the  ship  was  going  ashore ;  and  seeing  Solo- 
mon placidly  moving  about  below,  he  had  gone 
down  to  find  out  what  it  all  meant.  Of  course  his 
fears  were  soon  dispelled.  » 

The  rest  of  the  boys  waked  at  about  the  same 
time  that  Bart  did,  and  he  soon  rejoined  them 
below.  The  smell  of  broiled  ham  was  wafted  over 
the  ship.  Great  was  the  wonder  of  Bruce,  Arthur, 
Tom,  and  Phil  at  their  present  situation,  and  even 
greater  was  their  wonder  at  seeing  the  repast 
which  Solomon  had  *  already  spread  out  upon  the 
quarter-deck. 

For  Solomon  had  been  working  like  a  beaver. 

He  had  forced  open  the  cabin  door,  and  let  out 
all  the  water.  He  had  then  obtained  some  coal, 
which,  though  wet,  burned  merrily  in  the  galley 
stove,  and  had  found  the  cooking  utensils,  which 
he  had  fortunately  conveyed  to  the  cabin  when  he 
had  first  been  driven  from  the  galley. 

The  biscuit  were,  of  course,  soaked  and  saturated 


THE   FRIENDLY   COVE. 


227 


with  salt  water ;  but  Solomon  declared  that  they 
were  made  to  be  soaked  before  cooking,  and  that 
the  salt  water  was  "  jes  as  good  as  fresh  —  ebry 
mite."  So  ho  fried  these  in  butter,  and  sprinkled 
over  them  some  pepper,  which  was  in  the  sea- 
chest,  and  which,  with  all  the  other  contents  of  the 
chest,  had  not  been  injured.  Ham,  and  toasted 
cheese,  and  potted  moats,  and  tea  and  coffee,  to- 
gether with  other  articles  too  numerous  to  men- 
tion, formed  the  breakfast;  and  it  is  scarce  ne- 
cessary to  say  that  the  boys  did  full  justice 
to  it. 

After  breakfast  they  began  to  consider  what 
next  they  should  do.  The  land  was  close  by,  about 
half  a  mile  away.  The  line  of  coast  extended  far 
away  towards  the  left,  but  on  the  right  it  ended  in 
a  headland.  The  sea  was  very  quiet,  but  on  the 
shore  before  them  there  was  a  heavy  surf,  the  re- 
sult of  the  past  storm.  They  saw  farther  away  to 
the  left  a  smooth  beach,  where  a  landing  might  be 
easily  effected,  and  another  place  towards  the  right 
where  there  was  very  little  surf.  This  last  seemed 
the  best  place  for  attempting  a  landing. 

The  shore  was  not  very  attractive.  In  some 
places  rocky  cliffs  arose,  crowned  at  the  summit 
with  spruce  and  birch  ;  in  other  places  there  were 
slopes  covered  with  the  same  sort  of  trees.  There 
was  no  sign  whatever  of  any  house,  or  of  any  cul- 
tivation, or  of  any  pasture  land,  or  of  any  clearing. 
The  forest  seemed  unbroken. 


228 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


The  boys  were  now  as  ignorant  of  the  country 
as  they  had  been  when  they  first  saw  it.  Each 
still  held  the  same  opinion  which  he  had  announced 
before. 

Piiil  thought  that  it  was  Newfoundland. 

Tom,  that  it  was  Prince  Edward's  Island. 

Bart,  that  it  was  some  part  of  Nova  Scotia,  or 
Cape  Breton. 

Pat,  that  it  was  the  Magdalen  Islands. 
►   Bruce,  that  it  was  the  coast  of  New  Brunswick, 
somewhere  near  the  Miramichi. 

And  Arthur,  that  it  was  Gasp^,  not  far  from  the 
Bay  de  Chaleur.  "^ 

Thus,  although  this  particular  spot  seemed  des- 
olate enough,  no  one  gave  any  thought  to  that,  for 
they  all  supposed  that  inhabitants  could  be  found 
within  no  very  great  distance. 

After  some  deliberation,  it  was  at  length  con- 
cluded to  go  ashore.  The  strips  of  wood  which 
Solomon  had  already,  with  wise  forethought,  pro- 
cured, were  easily  shaped  into  very  respectable 
paddles  by  means  of  a  hatchet  and  a  knife. 

They  then  determined  to  secure  themselves  from 
want  while  ashore,  and  this  they  did  by  putting 
into  the  boat  one  of  the  barrels  of  biscuit  and  the 
chest  of  provisions.  , 

Then  they  all  embarked  and  pulled,  away.  They 
paddled  along  without  difficulty  towards  the  beach 
on  the  right,  where  the  surf  seemed  less.     On  ap- 


L>ND   AT  LAST. 


220 


preaching  this,  they  found  a  cove  fbrrnod  by  a 
gully  -^r^ong  the  hills,  and  at  one  end  there  were 
grassy  banks  near  which  a  stream  of  iresh  water 
flowed  into  the  sea. 

Here  they  landed. 


230 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


M  I 


XVII. 


Tlie  Lookout  over  the  Sea.  —  TTie  missing  Ship.  — 
Where  are  the  Boys  ?  —  Where  are  the  Boys  ?  — 
Wliere  are  the  Boys  ?  —  Where  are  the  Boys  ?  — 
WJiere  are  the  Boys? —  Where  are  the  Boys?  — 
An  elaborate  Calculation.  —  Dragging  the  An- 
chor, —  A  Chart  on  the  Cabin  Table.  —  Writ  in 
Water.  —  Hope.  —  Tlie  Antelope  sails  North  by 
East. —  Corbet  watches  the  Horizon.  —  Midday.  — 
Despair,  —  Corbet  crushed  / 

HflMHEN  Captain  Corbet  had  arrived  at  the 
place  where  he  supposed  he  had  left  the 
Petrel,  and  on  looking  about  saw  no  signs 
of  her,  he  was  filled  with  despair.  The  wind  had 
been  blowing  all  night  long,  and  the  sea  had  been 
rising  to  an  extent  that  might  have  justified  the 
deepest  anxiety ;  he  had  been  upheld  only  by  the 
thought  that  he  was  bringing  relief  to  the  boys ; 
and  this  solitary  consolation  was  taken  from  him  by 
the  first  glance  that  he  cast  around. 

This  was  the  fifth  day  since  he  had  left  them. 
He  had  gone,  p^-oposing  and  expecting  to  be  back 


THE   LOOKOUT   OVER  THE  SEA. 


231 


the 
the 
;ns 
lad 
len 
[he 
Ihe 


Im. 
ck 


in  two  days,  or  in  three  at  farthest.  But  he  had 
gone  much  farther  than  he  had  at  first  intended, 
and  hence  had  left  them  longer  than  he  had  said. 

And  where  were  they  now  ? 

In  vain  he  strained  his  eyes.  The  only  sail  on 
the  water  was  that  schooner :  possibly  some  fisher- 
man cruising  about  in  this  direction. 

Where  were  the  boys  ? 

Where  were  the  boys  that  had  been  committed 
to  his  care,  —  the  boys  who  had  been  intrusted  to 
him,  —  the  boys  who  had  confided  in  him,  —  the 
boys  who  had  placed  their  young  lives  in  his  keep- 
ing ? 

Where  were  the  boys? 

Where  were  the  boys  w^hom  he  had  left ;  whom 
he  had  promised  to  return  for  so  promptly  ? 

He  had  led  them  into  difiiculty,  and  left  them 
there ! 

He  had  led  them  into  starvation  —  that  was  his 
first  fault.  How  they  had  suffered  during  those 
davs  of  calm !  He  had  led  them  to  that  water- 
logged  vessel !  He  had  gone  on  board  with  them ; 
he  had  caused  them  to  put  a  confidence  in  that 
wrecked  ship  which  was  not  justifiable.        1  - 

Worst  of  all,  he  had  left  them  I 

And  now  that  he  thought  of  it,  what  was  that 
ship  ?  She  might  have  been  not  water-logged 
—  but  sinking  I  The  thought  filled  him  with  hor- 
ror.    A  sinking  ship !  and  he  had  left  them  there  1 

No  J  she  was  not  a  sinking  ship  —  he  knew  that. 


232 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


He  remembered  the  length  of  time  that  he  had 
seen  her  from  a  distance.  He  recalled  the  time 
he  had  heen  on  board,  and  all  the  observations 
which  he  had  made.  Water-logged  she  certainly 
was,  but  not  sinking  —  no,  not  sinking.  Timber 
ships  never  sink.  They  cannot  'sink.  A  timber 
ship  is  like  a  solid  wooden  ship  low  down  in  the 
water,  but  absolutely  unsinkable. 

This  thought  brought  some  consolation  to  him  in 
hi:^)  despair. 

But  as  he  looked  out  over  the  sea,  as  he  saw  the 
swelling  waves,  as  he  felt  the  Antelope  toss,  and 
leap,  and  plunge  about,  and  as  he  recalled  the  long 
night  that  had  passed,  with  its  storms  and  billows, 
he  trembled  for  the  boys  in  the  water-logged  ship. 

And  again  the  old  question  came  back,  — 

Where  were  the  boys  ? 

Where  were  the  bovs  whom  he  had  laft  in  the 
water-logged  ship  ?  He  himself  had  anchored  that 
ship  in  these  waters,  hard  and  fast ;  but  now,  as  he 
looked  about  far  over  the  seas,  he  saw  no  sign  of 
any  ship,  or  of  any  floating  thing  save  that  distant 
fishing  schooner.     What  did  this  mean?  ■ 

Again  and  again  he  asked  this  question,  and 
again  and  again  he  shrank  back  from  the  answer 
that  suggested  itself 

He  tried  to  console  himself  by  thinking  of  the 
buoyancy  of  wood  in  general,  and  of  timber  ships 
in  particular.  Alas  !  these  efforts  were  all  in  vain. 
For  he  remembered  how  rough  the  sea  had  been  j 


\ 


THE  MISSING   SHIP. 


233 


and  he  saw  all  around  him  even  now  the  swelling 
waves.  That  ship  had  already  been  torn  and  shat- 
tered by  storms.  That  ship  had  been  forsaken  by 
captain  and  crew.  They  had  believed  that  she 
was  about  to  founder.  Was  this  belief,  then,  so 
far  wrong  as  he  had  supposed  ?  She  was  like  a 
raft,  torn  and  dislocated,  which  any  fresh  move- 
ment of  the  water  might  shatter  to  pieces.  Per-  ^ 
haps  in  the  storm  that  had  fallen  upon  her  in  his 
absence  the  waves  had  wrought  their  will  upon 
her.  Perhaps  they  had  torn  her  to  pieces  in  their 
wrath,  and  Rcattered  all  her  timbers  afar  over  the 
surface  of  the  deep.  Perhaps  the  only  vestige  of 
the  Petrel  which  his  eyes  might  ever  see,  might 
be  some  floating  timbers  drifting  past,  and  bearing 
to  him  the  only  message  which  could  ever  com© 
to  the  land  of  the  living  from  the  lost  boys. 

Where  were  the  boys  ? 

Where,  0,  where  were  the  boys  whom  he  had  led 
into  danger,  and  then  madly  deserted  ?  —  doubly 
deserted,  in  fact ;  first,  when  he  sailed  away,  leav- 
ing them  on  board  the  wrecked  ship,  and  secondly, 
in  that  worse  desertion,  when  he  had  gone  away 
so  thoughtlessly,  so  wickedly,  and  so  madly,  from 
the  Magdalen  Islands  to  the  Miramichi  River? 
How  could  he  have  ever  thought  of  it?  What 
could  have  so  infatuated  him  as  to  lead  him  so  fiir 
away  from  those  helpless  boys  in  their  desperate 
position  ? 

Where  were  the  boys  ? 


234 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


/ 


0,  where  were  the  boys  ?  And  what  had  they  - 
thought  of  him?  What  misery  had  they  not  suf- 
fered I  What  despair  I  How  often  must  they  have 
watched  for  his  return  I  And  day  had  succeeded 
to  day,  and  night  to  night,  but  he  had  never  come  I 
While  they  were  watching  for  his  appearance,  he 
was  calmly  sailing  away,  or  was  loitering  in  dis- 
tant ports,  leaving  them  to  their  terrific  fate  1 

Where  were  the  boys  ? 

What  was  their  fate  ? 

What  had  become  of  that  ship  ? 

She  had  been  anchored  fast.  She  was  gone  now. 
Gone  !  Gone  were  those  boys,  for  whom  he  would 
have  laid  down  his  life  ;  but  whom,  nevertheless, 
he  had  deserted  and  betrayed.  And  he  —  what 
could  he  do?  Where  could  he  go?  Where  could 
he  search  for  them?  Over  what  seas  could  he 
sail?  With  what  hope?  Was  thei'e  any  hope? 
Hope  !  Alas  !  what  hope  could  he  form  when  he 
looked  out  over  these  foaming  waves,  and  felt  the 
Antelope  quiver  beneath  the  force  of  their  as- 
sault ?      .  '  '  -      ' 

These,  or  something  very  much  like  these,  w^ere 
the  thoughts  that  filled  the  soul  of  the  unhappy, 
the  despairing  Corbet,  as  he  rolled  his  venerable 
eyes  over  the  wide  waste  of  waters,  and  saw  that  the 
.Petrel  was  gone.  It  was  a  moment  full  of  deeper 
misery  and  keener  anguish  than  any  which  the 
good  captain  had  ever  known  in  the  whole  course 
of  his  life,  though  that  life  had  by  no  means  been 


WHERE  ARE  THE  BOYS? 


235 


without  its  sufferings.  Yet  among  all  the  suffer- 
ings and  sorrows  of  a  life  full  of  vicissitudes,  it 
had  never  fallen  to  his  lot  to  experience  such  a 
misfortune  as  this,  —  to  reproach  himself  so  keen- 
ly, so  severely,  and  yet  so  justly.  Whatever  the 
fate  of  the  boys  might  have  been,  he  knew  per- 
fectly well  that  he,  and  he  alone,  was  the  cause  ; 
nor  could  he  plead,  even  to  his  own  conscience,  the 
excuse  that  his  motives  were  right.  For  his  mo- 
tives were  not  right,  and  he  knew  it.  His  motives 
had  been  nothing  better  than  wild  desires  for  sud- 
den wealth.  True,  he  had  only  wished  that  wealth 
for  his  '*  babby  ; "  but  that  did  not  in  the  least 
mitigate  his  offence.  At  the  very  least,  he  had 
been  guilty  of  carelessness  so  gross  that  it  was 
hardly  inferior  to  downright,  deliberate  crime. 

So  the  poor  captain's  anguish  of  soul  was  ex- 
treme, and  utter,  as  well  it  might  be.  So  keen, 
indeed,  was  his  suffering,  that  his  hair  might  have 
turned  white  from  its  severity,  —  a  circumstance 
not  unusual,  —  but  in  the  captain's  case  it  was  not 
possible,  since,  as  is  well  known,  his  hair  was  al- 
ready as  gray  as  it  well  could  be,  and  therefore 
the  good  Captain  Corbet  could  only  suffer  in  secret, 
and  occasionally  wipe  away  the  tears  that  dropped 
from  his  eyes  with  the  sleeve  of  his  venerable 
coat. 

At  length  the  thought  occurred  to  him  that  per- 
haps he  had  not  come  to  the  right  place. 

To  his  mind,  the  thought  was  well  nigh  incon- 


236 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


ceivable  ;  yet,  after  all,  it  was  barely  possible,  and 
in  his  despair  he  caught  at  this  straw.  After  all, 
navigation  by  dead  reckoning  is  not  the  most  ac- 
curate way  in  the  world  of  working  one's  way 
along ;  and  Captain  Corbet  felt  this  in  an  obscure 
and  shadowy  sort  of  way ;  so  it  need  not  be  won- 
dered at  if  he  sought  relief  in  the  thought  that  he 
had  possibly  gone  astray. 

So  he  called  upon  Wade  l  >  take  the  helm,  while 
he  went  below  to  make  some  elaborate  calculations. 

He  did  it  in  this  way. 

He  first  got  a  l  ug  of  water. 
^   Then  he  seated  himself  by  the  cabin  table. 

Then  he  dipped  the  fore  finger  of  his  right  hand 
in  the  water. 

Then,  with  this  finger,  he  traced  certain  myste- 
rious marks  upon  the  table. 

Now,  these  mysterious  marks  were  designed  by 
this  ancient  mariner  to  represent  nothing  less  than 
the  coasts  surrounding  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence. 
To  an  unprejudiced  observer,  this  idea  would 
never  have  suggested  itself;  but  to  the  mind  of 
the  venerable  Corbet,  these  marks  were  as  plain 
and  as  intelligible  as  the  finest  outlines  of  the 
Admiralty  charts  engraved  in  steel,  and  bristling 
with  names  of  places.  In  his  mind's  eye  he  could 
see  everything.  He  could  see  Prince  Edward's 
Island,  Cape  Breton,  Newfoundland,  Gaspe,  the 
Bay  de  Chaleur,  Miramichi,  and  the  Magdalen 
Islands.     There,  too,  full  and  fair,  in  the  centre  of 


A  CHART  ON  THE  CABIN  TABLE. 


237 


the  scene,  a  big  wet  spot,  made  most  emphatically 
with  his  thumb,  showed  him  the  spot  where  he 
had  left  the  Petrel. 

Aud  this  was  Captain  Corbet's  chart,  and  this 
was  his  mode  of  navigating,  and  this  was  the 
scientific  method  which  he  adopted  in  order  to 
work  his  way  out  of  a  difficulty.  Quadrant,  sex- 
tant, and  other  instruments  of  that  character  he 
did  not  need ;  he  trusted  to  his  own  head,  and  to 
his  finger. 

It  must  be  confessed  that,  on  this  occasion,  these 
resources  rather  failed  him.  The  puzzle  seemed 
insolubte.  In  vain  he  obliterated  the  w^t  spot 
where  he  first  stationed  the  Petrel.  In  vain  he 
made  another  dab  with  his  thumb  in  a  second 
place.  He  could  not  arrive  at  any  conclusion 
which  was  entirely  satisfactory.  He  placed  the 
mug  of  water  on  the  table,  leaned  his  aged  head  in 
both  hands,  and  sat  watching  his  chart  in  profound 
thought.  A  sudden  sea  struck  the  Antelope.  The 
good  vessel  leaped,  as  was  natural,  at  such  rough 
treatment.  As  was  natural,  also,  the  mug  of  water 
leaped.  Moreover,  it  upset.  The  contents  poured 
forth,  and  inundated  the  table.  The  chart  was  all 
obliterated.  ' 

At  this  casualty  Captain  Corbet  rose.  He  be- 
trayed no  excitement,  no  passion.  He  did  not 
swear,  as  some  wrecked  sea  captains  have  done. 
He  did  not  even  utter  an  exclamation.  He  simply 
took  his  aged  coat  tail  and  wiped  the  water  off  the 


238 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


table  very  carefully,  and  tlie^  with  his  other  aged 
coat  tail  he  dried  it,  and  even  polished  it  most  elabo- 
rately. The  table  had  not  been  so  clean  for  ever  so 
long.  It  seemed  to  be  astonished  at  itself.  Captain 
Corbet,  meanwhile,  remained  mild  and  patient. 
Sir  Isaac  Newton  himself,  after  the  burning  of  his 
Principia  by  his  immortal  little  dog  Diamond,  was 
not  more  placid.  Without  a  word,  our  captain 
went  to  the  bucket,  replenished  the  mug,  returned 
to  the  table,  resumed  his  seat,  and,  holding  the 
mug  in  his  left  hand,  under  the  table,  to  prevent  a 
recurrence  of  this  mishap,  he  dipped  the  fore 
finger  of  his  right  hand  into  the  water,  %nd  pro- 
ceeded to  retrace  upon  the  table  the  outline  of  his 
chart.  In  a  little  while  there  appeared  before  his 
eyes,  as  plain  as  before,  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence, 
with  all  the  surrounding  coasts — Cape  Breton, 
Nova  Scotia,  New  Brunswick,  Gaspe,  Newfound- 
land, the  Magdalen  Islands,  and  plain  in  the  mid- 
dle the  dab  of  his  venerable  thumb  representing 
the  spot  where  he  had  left  the  Petrel. 

But  the  problem  remained  insoluble.  He  was 
certain  that  he  had  come  back  to  the  right  spot. 
Again  and  again  he  traced,  in  a  thin  line,  made  by 
his  wet  finger-nail,  the  course  which  he  had  taken; 
first,  from  the  Petrel  to  the  Magdalen  Islands,  and, 
secondly,  from  the  Magdalen  Islands  to  Miramichi, 
and,  thirdly,  from  Miramichi  to  the  place  where 
he  now  was.  In  each  case  his  course  had,  fortu- 
nately, been  quite  straight.     Had  there  been  head 


HOPE. 


239 


winds,  it  might  have  been  different ;  but,  as  it 
was,  the  straight  course  which  he  had  kept  made 
the  outlines  on  the  table  all  the  more  simple,  but 
at  the  same  time  they  made  the  problem  all  the 
more  complex.  The  ship  was  missing.  He  had 
left  her  at  anchor.  She  could  not  sink.  What, 
then,  had  become  of  her? 

The  first  answer  was  the  terrible  one  that  she 
had  gone  to  pieces  in  the  storm.  But  this  was  the 
very  one  from  which  he  was  seeking  to  escape, 
and  against  which  he  sought  refuge  in  such  facts 
as  her  strength  and  the  stiffness  of  a  timber 
cargo.  .        .  ,    •  ^ 

But  what  other  conclusion  was  there  ? 

That  he  had  mistaken  his  way  ? 

Impossible  ! 

On  the  table  before  him  the  marks  that  he  had 
made  confirmed  him  in  the  opinion  that  he  was,  if 
not  on  the  identical  spot  where  he  had  left  the 
Petrel,  at  least  sufficiently  near  to  be  able  to  see 
her  if  she  still  was  here. 
•  Yet  here  she  evidently  was  not. 

What,  then,  had  become  of  her? 

To  this  only  one  answer  remained,  and  in  this 
he  sought  to  find  comfort. 

She  might  have  Oiagged  her  anchor,  and  might 
have  thereby  drifted,  under  the  pressure  of  the 
storm,  far  enough  away  to  be  out  of  sight. 

But  in  what  direction  had  she  drifted? 

The  wind  had  been  south  by  east.    He  knew 


240 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


that  well  enough.  This  one  fact,  then,  showed 
him  what  course  she  would  have  taken  when 
adrift. 

He  wet  his  finger  now  for  the  last  time.  BTe 
planted  it  down  upon  the  place  which  he  had 
marked  as  the  position  of  the  Petrel,  and  then 
drew  a  line  in  the  direction  which  he  supposed 
miglit  indicate  the  course  of  her  drift.  Then  he 
stopped  to  calculate  the  possible  distance  which 
she  might  have  traversed  while  dragging  her 
anchor,  and  made  a  mark  to  represent  what,  under 
this  theory,  might  be  her  present  position. 

Then  he  drew  a  long  breath. 

He  then  rose  to  his  feet,  and  surveyed  his  chart 
for  a  few  moments  with  a  thoughtful  face.    '      * '' 

And  now  the  time  had  come  for  action.  He  had 
at  last  a  theory.  His  mind  was  made  up.  He 
hurried  upon  deck,  and,  seizing  the  tiller,  headed 
the  Antelope  north  by  west,  in  the  direction  which 
he  conjectured  the  drifting  ship  to  have  taken. 

He  had  allowed  between  twenty  and  thirty 
miles  for  her  drift.  He  had  calculated  that  a  mile 
an  hour  would  be  a  fair  allowance  for  a  vessel  that 
was  dragging  her  anchor,  and  he  did  not  think 
thet  the  wind  had  been  strong  enough  to  make  her 
drag  her  anchor  for  more  than  twenty  hours,  and 
certainly,  as  he  thought,  not  more  than  thirty,  at 
the  farthest.  Upon  this  principle  he  acted,  and 
when  he  headed  the  Antelope  north  by  west,  he 
hoped  to  catch  sight  of  the  lost  ship  before  noon. 


CORBET  WATCHES   THE   HORIZON. 


241 


lirty 
I  mile 
that 
Ihink 
her 
and 
at 
and 
It,  he 
Ion. 


For  the  Antelope,  with  a  fair  wind,  could  make 
as  much  as  four  or  five  miles  an  hour;  and,  after 
making  every  allowance  for  currents,  or  for  leeway, 
she  ought  to  do  twenty  miles  between  six  o'clock 
in  the  morning  and  midday.  And  so,  full  of  con- 
fidence in  the  ability  of  the  Antelope  to  do  her 
duty.  Captain  Corbet  took  his  station  at  the  helm. 

Now  that  a  gleam  of  hope  had  appeared,  he  was 
a  different  man.  The  gleam  became  brighter  and 
brighter,  until  at  last  it  grew  to  be  positive  sun- 
shine. He  forgot  his  recent  despair.  The  more 
he  thought  of  his  theory  of  the  Petrel  dragging 
her  anchor,  the  more  convinced  he  was  that  it 
was  correct,  and  the  more  certain  he  was  that  he 
would  ultimately  catch  sight  of  her. 

And  so  he  kept  on  his  course,  with  his  eyea 
fixed  on  the  horizon  before  him,  anxiously  awaiting 
the  time  when  he  would  descry  the  masts  of  the 
lost  vessel  becoming  gradually  defined  against 
the  sky. 
,  Hour  af^fir  hour  passed. 

The  Antelope  sailed  on. 

Midday  came. 
..    The  Antelope  had  traversed  the  distance  which 
her  commander  had  allotted  for  the  utmost  possible 
drift  of  the  Petrel. 

Yet  not  the  slightest  sign  of  the  Petrel  had 
appeared. 

The  hopes  upon  which  Captain  Corbet  had  been 
relying  gradually  sank  under  him.     When  midday 

6 


^?         .'  '*tf,J.'|W    ^'^stK  l 


* 


242  PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 

came,  and  the  masts  of  the  Petrel  did  not  appear,   .,         { 
hope  sank  away,  and  despondency  came,  and  de- 
spondency deepened  into  despair. 

All  that  he  had  felt  at  early  dawn,  when  he  first 
looked  abroad  upon  the  seas  an-^  found  her  not, 
now  came  back  to  him,  —  all  the  sell-reproach,  all 
the  remorse,  all  the  anguish  of  soul. 

He  stood  at  the  helm,  and  let  the  Antelope  pass 
onward,  but  there  was  no  longer  any  hope  in  his 
mind.  He  was  overwhelmed,  and  now  even  the 
possibility  of  finding  her  seemed  to  be  taken 
away.  ,  * 

All  this  time  the  wind  had  gone  on  increasing 
in  violence,  and  the  sea  had  risen  more  and  more. 
For  himself  and  for  the  Antelope  Captain  Corbet 
did  not  care ;  but  the  lowery  sky  and  the  stormy 
sea  seemed  terrible  to  him,  for  they  spoke  to  him 
of  the  lost  boys,  and  told  a  tale  of  horror.  ... 


I 


.UNPOETUNATE  CORBET. 


243 


.1  i 


;    ,  Mi/'  M    JtM  ■:    r 


;/i((  )■..!.   \^•••t    !•■  '1'  .i;-".;h 


t'-:TJ*   ^-^i"     ■■/'•'.'^  ,^*V/l,',    '/j  ■»  '»    *>,  ii  •!    ;•;.(!    ■>:.    '. 


'••-'(!  • 


Sk 


XVIII. 


The  venerable,  hut  very  unfortunate,  Corbet.  — 
TJie  Antelope  lies  to.  —  Emotions  of  her  despair- 
ing Commander.  —  Night  and  Morning.  —  Tlie 
Fishing  Schooner. — An  old  Acquaintance  ap- 
pears, and  puts  the  old,  old  Question. —  Corbet 
overwhelmed.  —  He  confesses  all.  —  Tremendous 
Effect  on  Captain  Tobias  Ferguson. —  His  Self- 
command.  —  Considering  the  Situation,  —  Wind 
and  Tide.  —  Theories  as  to  the  Fosition*  of  the 
lost  Ones.  —  Up  Sail  and  after.  —  The  last 
Charge  to  Captain  Corbet.  ,     j     ■ 

^HE  unfortunate  Corbet  thus  found  himself  in 
a  state  of  despair.  The  situation,  indeed, 
could  not  possibly  be  worse.  The  ship  was 
gone  ;  and  where  ?  Who  could  tell  ?  Certainly 
not  he.  He  had  exhausted  all  his  resources. 
From  the  cabin  table  he  was  unable  to  elicit  any 
further  information,  nor  could  his  aged  brain  fur- 
nish forth  intellectual  power  which  was  at  all  ade- 
quate to  the  problem  before  it.  He  was  alone. 
He  had  none  to  help  him.  With  Wade  he  did  not 
offer  to  take  counsel,  feeling,  perhaps,  that  Wade 


244  PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 

• 

would  be  about  as  useful  in  this  emergency  as  the 
An*  lope's  pump.  •  -    ■>   •    - 

Meanwhile  the  storm  increased,  and  Captain 
Corbet  felt  himself  unable  to  contend  with  it. 
The  tattered  old  sails  of  the  Antelope  were  double- 
reefed,  but  seemed  every  moment  about  to  fly  into 
ribbons.  There  was  no  object  in  keeping  his  pres- 
ent course  any  longer ;  and  so  he  decided,  in  view 
of  the  storm  and  his  own  indecision,  to  lie  to. 
And  now  the  Antelope  tossed,  and  pitched,  and 
kicked,  and  bounded  beneath  Captain  Corbet, 

*'  like  a  steed 
That  knows  its  rider,"  -      '  '" 

and  Wade  went  below,  and  took  refuge  in  sleep ; 
and  the  good,  the  brave,  yet  the  unhappy  Corbet 
took  up  his  position  upon  the  windlass,  and  be- 
striding it,  he  sat  for  hours  peering  into  space. 
There  were  no  thoughts  whatever  in  his  mind. 
He  tried  not  to  speculate,  he  attempted  not  to 
solve  the  problem ;  but  there  was,  deep  down  in 
his  soul,  a  dark,  drear  sense  of  desolation,  a  wo- 
ful  feeling  of  remorse  and  of  despair.  Nothing 
attracted  his  attention  on  that  wide  sea  or  troubled^ 
sky ;  not  the  waste  of  foaming  waters,  not  the 
giant  masses  of  storm  clouds,  nor  yet  that  fishing 
schooner,  which,  only  a  few  miles  off,  was  also,  like 
the  Antelope,  lying  to.  Captain  Corbet  did  not 
notice  this  stranger ;  he  did  not  speculate  upon 
the  cause  of  her  presence  j  he  did  not  see  that  she 


i 


i 


cosbet's  sadness. 


245 


was  the  identical  vessel  that  he  had  noticed  before, 
and  therefore  did  not  wonder  why  it  was  that  he 
had  been  followed  so  long  and  so  persistently. 

So  he  sat  on  the  windlass,  and  gazed  forth  into 
illimitable  space.       -    '  '  .    • 

And  the  long,  long  hours  passed  away. 

Evening  came. 

Deepening  into  night. 

Night,  and  storm,  and  darkness  came  down,  and 
the  Antelope  tossed,  and  plunged,  and  kicked,  and 
jumped;  yet  the  sleepless  Corbet  remained  on 
deck,  occasionally  shifting  his  position,  but  still 
overwhelmed  by  his  misery. 

Towards   midnight   the   storm   abated.     Corbet 
waited  a  few  hours  longer,  and  then  stole  below, 
hoping  to  forget  his  misery  and  relieve  his  fatigues 
by  a  little  sleep.    • 
.  In  vain.  •  " 

The  air  of  the  cabin  seemed  to  suffocate  him. 
Sleep  was  impossible.  His  distressing  thoughts 
seemed  to  drive  him  into  a  fever ;  he  tried  hard 
and  for  a  long  time  to  overcome  them,  and  finally 
succeeded  in  getting  a  short  nap. 

By  this  time  it  was  dawn,  and  the  good  captain 
rose,  and  went  upon  deck,  feeling  dejected  and 
miserable. 

He  looked  out  over  the  waters,  and  noticed  that 
the  strange  schooner  was  bearing  down  straight 
towards  him.  She  was  coming  bows  on,  so  that  at 
first  he  did  not  know  her  from  any  other  vessel ; 


246  "'  PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


rt 


but  at  length  she  came  up,  and  hove  to  close  by,' 
disclosing  the  symmetrical  hull,  the  beautiful  lines, 
the  slender,  tapering  masts,  and  the  swelling,  snow- 
white  canvas  of  the  Fawn.  At  the  same  moment 
he  saw  a.  boat  drop  alongside,  and  into  this  leaped 
Captain  Tobias  Ferguson,  who  at  once  pulled  to 
the  Antelope,  and  in  a  few  minutes  stood  on  board. 

The  last  time  that  he  had  seen  Captain  Ferguson 
he  had  looked  upon  him  in  the  light  of  a  busybody, 
a  vexatious  and  too  inquisitive  spy,  a  persecutor 
and  a  tormentor.  But  now  circumstances  had 
changed  so  utterly,  and  Captain  Corbet's  suffer- 
ings both  of  mind  and  body  had  been  so  acute, 
that  the  once  dreaded  Ferguson  appeared  to  him 
almost  equal  to  some  Heaven-sent  deliverer.  His 
wan  lace  flushed  with  joy;  he  could  not  speak;  tears 
burst  from  his  eyes ;  and  seizing  Ferguson's  hand 
in  both  of  his,  he  clasped  it  tight. 

Ferguson  darted  over  him  one  swift,  keen  glance 
that  took  in  everything,  but  made  no  comment 
upon  the  emotion  that  was  so  visible.''  *    '  "'"  '■"'' 

"  Well,"  said  he,.  "  we're  bound  to  meet  again. 
The  fact  is,  I  was  bound  not  to  lose  sight  of  you. 
I  tell  you  I  got  those  boys  on  my  brain,  and 
couldn't  get  them  out  no  how.  1  knew  you  were 
going  to  find  them,  or  to  try  to  find  them.  I  be- 
lieved they  were  all  in  danger,  and  so  I  up  sail 
and  followed.  And  a  preciou?  hard  job  that  fol- 
lowing was.  Why,  it  was  like  making  a  race-horse 
follow  a  snail.     I  had  to  turn  back  every  other 


AN  OLD   ACQUAINTANCE. 


247 


..a.A   ,'  ,\    .2 


mile  or  so,  and  go  away.  I  saw  you  lie  to  yester- 
day, so  I  lay  to  ;  and  here  I  am  this  morning,  right 
side  up,  and  ready  to  repeat  my  question,  Where 
are  the  boys  ?  So  come,  now,  old  man ;  no  humbug, 
no  shuffling.  You're  in  a  fix.  I  know  it  well 
enough.  You've  lost  the  boys.  Very  well.  I'll 
help  you  find  'em.  So,  now,  make  a  clean  breast 
of  it,  and  tell  me  all  about  it  from  the  very  begin- 
ning." 

Saying  this,  Ferguson  seated  himself  on  the 
taffrail,  and  drawing  forth  a  cigar,  lighted  it,  and 
waited  for  Captain  Corbet  to  begin. 

,  But  for  Captain  Corbet  there  was  the  difficulty. 
How  could  he  begin  ?  How  could  he  tell  the  mis- 
erable story  of  his  madness  and  his  folly  ?  of  the 
ignorant  confidence  of  the  poor  boys  ?  of  his  cul- 
pable and  guilty  negligence,  doubly  guilty,  since 
he  had  deserted  them  not  only  once  in  leaving  the 
ship,  but  a  second  time  in  sailing  away  from  the 
Magdalen  Islands  ?  And  for  what  purpose  ?  Even 
had  he  reached  the  ship  with  the  sails,  could  he 
really  have  saved  her  ?  Yet  here  stood  his  inquisi- 
tor, and  this  time  his  questions  must  be  answered. 

"  Wal,"  began  Captain  Corbet,  in  a  tremulous 
voice,  "  I  left  em 

"  Yes." 


;; 


r  t 


left 


em 


» 


«I  — I  — left 
"Well?" 

"I  —  I —  left  em,  j'-ou  know." 
"  So  you  said  three  times;  but  I  knew  that  be- 
fore.    The  question  is,  Where  ?  " 


248  PICKED  UP  ADRIFT.  • 

"  Aboard  a  ship."  ''.^^<'    ^^^^ va;.      r  .    v  i  -    • 

"  Aboard  a  ship  ? "  '  « •      :  •. 

"Yes."  '        '  :  '■'  ■'  ■•  •   -^ 

"What  ship?     Where?  ^     '       • 

"  Somevvhar's  about  here." 

"  About  here  ?     But  what  ship  ?  "    -  '   -    ' 

"  She  —  she  —  she  —  was  —  she  —  she  was  — 
wa-wa-water-logged."        "'  '  '  i,  i 

At  this  Ferguson  started  to  his  feet,  almost  leap- 
ing in  the  air  as  he  did  so.  For  a  moment  he  re- 
garded the  unhappy  Corbet  with  an  expression  of 
mingled  horror  and  incredulity. 

"  You  don't  mean  it  !  "  he  said,  at  length.       ^  ■ 

Captain  Corbet  sighed. 

"  What  ?  "  cried  Ferguson.  "  Were  you  mad  ? 
Were  they  mad  ?  Were  you  all  raving,  stark,  star- 
ing distracted  ?  What  were  you  all  thinking  of? 
A  water-logged  ship  I  Why,  do  you  mean  to  stand 
there  in  your  boots,  look  me  in  the  face,  and  tell 
me  that  about  the  boys  ?  " 

Captain  Corbet  trembled  from  head  to  foot.  '^  * 

"  A  water-logged  ship  !  Why,  you  mighi  as  well 
tell  me  you  pitched  them  all  overboard  and  drowned 
them."  ''        •■'  " 

Captain  Corbet  shuddered,  and  turned  away. 

Ferguson  laid  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  more  quietly,  "  you  couldn't 
have  been  such  a  fool  I  You  must  have  considered 
that  the  boys  had  some  chance.  What  sort  of  a 
ship  was  she  ?    Whac  was  her  ca-'go  ?  " 


coebet's  confession. 


240 


a 


"  Timber,"  said  the  mournful  Corbet,  in  a  melan- 
choly wail.  , 

Ferguson's  face  brightened. 

"  You're  sure  of  that  ?  "  ' 

"  Gospel  sure."  j 

"  Not  deals,  now,  or  laths,  or  palings,  or  pickets, 
or  battens,  or  anything  of  that  sort  ?  "  -    ' 

"  I  saw  the  timber  —  white  pine."  ^ 

"  Well,  that's  better  ;  that  gives  them  a  chance. 
I've  heard  say  that  a  timber  ship'll  float  for  years, 
if  she's  any  kind  of  a  ship  at  all ;  and  so,  perhaps, 
this  one  is  drifting."  ,    , 

Captain  Corbet  shook  his  head. 

^'  Why  not  ? "  asked  Ferguson,  noticing  the 
movement.  '•  *  ji 

"  I  anchored  her." 

"  Anchored  her  ?  " 

"Yes."  --vr. 

"  Anchored  what  ?    The  timber  ship  ?  " 

"Yes."  .         .      ..       =.. 

"  Anchored  her  ?    That's  queer  !    And  where  ?  " 

"  Why,  somewhars  about  twenty  mile  or  so 
back."  ■  .      .         • 

"  Somewhere  about  twenty  mile  or  so  back  I "  re- 
peated Ferguson.  "  Why,  the  man's  mad  I  See 
here,  old  man ;  what  do  you  mean  by  anchoring 
hereabouts  ?     Did  you  try  soundings  ?  " 

"  Wal,  n-n-no." 

"  Are  you  aware  that  the  bottom  is  several  miles 
down  below,  and  that  all  the  chains  and  ropes  of 


250 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


that  ship,  if  they  were  all  tied  together  in  one  line, 
wouldn't  begin  to  reach  half  way?  "        — '    ■•  ^-   . 

"  Wal,  now,  railly,  I  hadn't  any  idee.  I  jest  kine 
o'  dropped  anchor  to  hold  the  ship  till  I  got  back." 

"  Well,  old  man,"  said  Ferguson,  "  I've  got  a 
very  good  general  idea  of  your  proceedings  ;  but 
I  want  a  few  more  particulars,  so  that  I  can  judge 
for  myself  about  the  poor  lads.  So  I'll  trouble 
you  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  and  in  particular 
to  let  me  know  why  you  kept  so  close  when  I 
asked  you  about  it  before.  Close  ?  Why,  if  you'd 
been  decoying  those  boys  out  there  on  purpose  to 
get  rid  of  them,  you  couldn't  have  fought  shyer  of 
my  questions  than  you  did."  :m    -      r  -  lH. 

Upon  this  Captain  Corbet  proceeded,  as  Fergu- 
son called  it,  to  "  make  a  clean  breast  of  it."  He 
began  at  the  first,  told  about  their  failure  in  pro- 
visions, their  discovery  of  the  ship,  and  his  project 
of  saving  her.  He  explained  all  about  his  reti- 
cence on  the  subject  at  the  Magdalen  Islands,  and 
the  cause  of  his  voyage  to  Miramichi.  All  this 
was  accompanied  with  frequent  interruptions,  ex- 
pressive of  self-reproach,  exculpation,  remorse, 
misery,  and  pitiable  attempts  at  excusing  his 
conduct. 

Ferguson  listened  to  all  without  expressing  any 
opinion,  merely  asking  a  question  for  information 
here  and  there ;  and  at  the  close  of  Captain  Cor- 
bet's confession,  he  remained  for  some  considerable 
time  buried  in  profound  reflection. 


8t 


EFFECT  ON  CAPTAIN  FERGUSON. 


251 


•se, 
his 


"  Well/'  said  lie,  "  the  whole  story  is  one  that 
won't  bear  criticism.  I  won't  begin.  Jf  I  did, 
you'd  hear  a  little  of  the  tallest  swearing  that  ever 
came  to  your  ears.  No,  old  man  ;  I've  got  a  wick- 
ed temper,  and  I  won't  get  on  that  subject.  The 
thing  that  you  and  me  have  got  to  do  ia,  to  see 
what  can  be  done  about  those  boys,  and  then  to  do 
it  right  straight  off.  That's  what  we've  got  to  do  ; 
and  when  I  say  we,  I  mean  myself,  for  you  appear  to 
have  done  about  as  much  mischief  as  is  needful  for 
one  lifetime."  - 

Ferguson  now  began  to  pace  the  deck,  and  kept 
this  up  for  about  half  an  hour,  at  the  end  of  which 
time  he  resumed  his  seat  on  the  taffrail.  Captain 
Corbet  watched  him  with  wistful  eyes,  and  in  deep 
suspense ;  yet  there  was  already  upon  his  vener- 
able face  somewhat  less  of  grief,  for  he  felt  a 
strange  confidence  in  this  eager,  energetic,  active, 
strong  man,  whose  pertinacity  had  been  so  ex- 
traordinary, and  whose  singular  affection  for  the 
boys  had  been  so  true  and  so  tender.  -  ?■<  '•   "  M 

"  I'm  beginning,"  said  Ferguson,  at  length,  "  I'm 
beginning  to  see  my  way  towards  action,  and  that's 
something ;  though  whether  it'll  result  in  anything 
is  more  than  I  can  begin  to  say.  ^ 

"  In  the  first  place,  I  go  on  the  theory  that  this 
timber  ship  didn't  sink ;  that  she  stood  this  blow 
as  solid  as  though  .  o  was  carve^d  out  of  a  single 
stick. 

"  In  the  s'^coL^  place,  I  scout  your  idea  of  an- 


252 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


choring  her.  That  is  rank,  raving  insanity.  To 
anchor  a  ship  in  three  miles  of  water  I  Old  man, 
go  homo ;  you  have  no  business  on  the  sea. 

"  So  she's  been  drifting ;  yes,  drifting.  She  was 
drifting  when  you  found  her,  and  drifting  when 
you  left  her.  Where  she  was  you  can't  tell,  see- 
ing that  you  can't  take  an  observation,  and  didn't 
take  one.  So  we're  all  astray  there,  and  I  can  only 
calculate  her  probable  position  from  the  course  you 
took  to  the  Magdalen  Islands,  and  the  time  occu- 
pied in  making  the  trip  by  that  astonishing  old  tub 
of  yours,  that  disgraces  and  ridicules  the  respecta- 
ble name  of  Antelope. 

"  Very  well.  Now  say  she's  afloat,  and  has  been 
drifting.  The  question  is.  Where  has  she  drifted 
to  ?  She  probably  was  found  by  you  somewhere 
about  here.  That  was  about  a  week  ago.  Well, 
after  the  calm  was  over,  then  came  a  wind.  That 
wind  was  a  south-easter.  It  got  up  at  last  into  a 
storm,  like  the  blow  last  night. 

"  Now,  there  are  two  things  to  be  considered. 


"  First,  the  wind. 


<■'    \?.-Hii  r: 


"  Second,  the  current.    ;       '  •  '^ 

"  First,  as  to  the  wind.  It  was  a  steady  south- 
easter for  nearly  a  week,  ending  in  a  hard  blow. 
That  wind  has  had  a  tendency  to  blow  her  over  in 
that  direction  —  over  there,  nor'-west.  In  that  di- 
rection she  must  have  been  steadily  pushed,  unless 
there  was  something  to  prevent,  some  ocean  cur- 
rents or  other. 


CAPTAIN  FERGUSON'S   CONJECTURES. 


253 


DO  a 


"And  this  brings  us  to  the  next  point  —  the 
currents. 

"  Now,  over  there,  about  thirty  miles  south  of 
this,  there  is  a  current  setting  out  into  the  Atlantic 
from  the  River  St.  Lawrence ;  and  up  there,  thirty 
miles  to  the  north,  there  is  considerable  of  a  cur- 
rent, that  runs  up  into  the  Straits  of  Belle  Isle. 
Just  round  about  here  there  is  a  sort  of  eddy,  or  a 
back  current,  that  flows  towards  the  Island  of  An- 
ticosti.  Now,  that  happens  to  be  the  identical 
place  towards  which  the  wind  would  carry  her. 
So,  you  see,  granting  that  the  Petrel  has  remained 
afloat,  the  wind  and  the  currents  must  both  have 
acted  on  her  in  such  a  way  as  to  carry  her  to  that 
desert  island,  that  horrible,  howling  wilderness, 
that  abomination  of  desolation,  that  graveyard  of 
ships  and  seamen  —  Anticosti." 

At  this  intelligence.  Captain  Corbet's  heart  once 
more  sank  within  him. 

"  Anti  —  Anticosti  1 "  he  murmured,  in  a  trem- 
bling voice.  -  •       '    ^  /   • 

"  Yes,  Anticosti.  And  I  ain't  surprised,  not  a 
bit  surprised,"  said  Ferguson.  "I  said  so.  I 
prophesied  it.  I  was  sure  of  it.  I  read  it  in 
their  faces  at  Magdalen.  When  I  saw  that  rotten 
old  tub,  and  those  youngsters,  something  told  me 
they  were  going  to  wind  up  by  getting  on  Anti- 
costi. When  I  saw  you  come  back  to  Magdalen,  I 
was  sure  of  it.  I  followed  you  to  Miramichi  to  find 
out  J  and  ever  since  I've  been  following  you,  I^ve 


254 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


had  Anticosti  in  my  mind,  as  the'  only  place  I  was 
bound  to."    '•  i  '    '  '  •  :,n-Mi.  ,11 » ff  ->*- 

Captain  Corbet  drew  a  long  breath.  i'Sow 

"  Wal,"  said  he,  "  at  any  rate,  it's  better  for  them 
than  bein  —  bein  —  at  —  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea." 
"  'Tain't  any  better,  if  theyVe  been  smashed 
against  the  rocks  of  Anticosti  in  last  night's  gale," 
retorted  Ferguson,  who  was  not  willing  that  Cap- 
tain Corbet  should  recover  from  his  anxiety  too 
soon,     "'i   . '  ■    '  ■ '   '■  '■'.  ■'i^'iiM  .   11^^ 

.   "  But  mayn't  she  —  mayn't  she  —  catch  ?  "       ^''"^ 

<♦  Catch  ? "  '  ^^-jxFiocr 

"Yes."  ,.■'!;:.   ..y.iohr A.  AilT 

"How?"  '  ''  '^ 

'   "  Why  —  her  —  her  anchor.     It's  been  down  all 

the  time.     That  thar  anchor  had  ought  to  catch 

hold  of  somethin."      '  -        *  ^'  ■    •     '  »•  :"'K',^mu  mfci 

Ferguson  slapped  his  thighs  with  both  hands 

with  tremendous  force.  ^  ''"^  "^  -'"^  ^*^ 

"  You're  right !  right  are  you,  old  man,  for  once  I 

For  the  moment,  I  had  forgotten  about  the  anchor. 

That  saves  them.     That  anchor's  bound  to  catch ; 

for,  after  all,  I  don't  think  last  night's  storm  was 

bad  enough  to  make  her  drag.     At  any  rate,  it 

gives  them  a  chance.     And  now  —  off  we  go." 

With  these  words,  Ferguson  jumped   into  his 
boat. 

He  turned  his  head  once  more. 
"  Old  man,  mark  me  —  all  you've  got  to  do  is  to 
follow  straight  after  me." 


NOTHE-WEST  AND   BY  NOTHE. 


255 


"  But  you'll  get  away  in  the  night." 

"  So  I  will.  Well,  then,  you  head  straight  nothe- 
weat  and  by  nothe.  I'll  pick  you  up  some  time  to- 
morrow. We'll  cruise  aloug  the  shore  of  Anticosti 
till  we  find  the  ship."  .,        ...  ,, 

With  these  words,  Ferguson  seized  the  oars. 
A  dozen  strokes  brought  him  alongside  of  his  own 
schooner.  He  leaped  on  board,  and  the  boat  was 
hauled  up  astern.      •    -  .    .    t.,..'>  ,,  .  > 

In  a  few  moments  the  Fawn  spread  her  snow- 
white  wings,  and  headed  away  "  nothe-west  and  by 
nothe."  ..    .. 

The  Antelope  followed.  7  '  * 

Before  evening  the  Fawn  was  out  of  sight. 

But  Captain  Corbet  stood  calmly  and  confidently 
at  the  helm,  and  steered  "  nothe-west  and  by  nothe.'* 
His  despair  had  subsided,  leaving  only  a  mild  mel- 
ancholy that  was  not  unbecoming;  but  his  soul 
was  full  of  hope,  for  he  had  confidence  in  Fergu- 


son.     .,     ,,,, 


!;■'';,•    II 


,'  J  '  ;     \   .  ■  '■  i  ■ 


rr 


256 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT, 


•  «' 


n 


XIX. 

The  Cove,  —  The  grassy  Knoll.  —  Tlie  Brook.  — 
A  Eeconnoitre.  —  The  Bed  of  the  Brook.  —  Far 
up  into  the  Country.  — A  rough  Road. —  Return. 

—  The  Aroma  of  the  strange  Dinner,  —  Solomon 
again  in  his  Glory.  —  A  great  Surprise.  —  A 
Resolution.  —  Drawing  of  Lots.  —  The  fated 
Two.  —  Last  Visit  to  the  Petrel.  —  Final  Prep- 
arations. —  A  sound  Sleep.  —  The  Embarkation. 

—  The  lohite  Sail  lost  to  View. 


>HE  cove  into  which  they  pulled  seemed  to 
the  boys  to  be  the  most  beautiful  place  that 
they  had  ever  seen.  Such  a  thought  was 
natural,  after  such  a  passage  from  the  wrecked 
ship,  and  from  the  terrors  of  the  sea  to  this  peace- 
ful and  sheltered  nook ;  and,  indeed,  more  unpreju- 
diced observers  might  have  been  charmed  with 
such  a  place.  The  hills  encircled  it,  covered  with 
trees ;  the  brook  babbled  over  pebbles  into  the 
sea ;  the  grassy  knoll  rose  invitingly  in  front  of 
them  ;  while  behind  them  was  the  sea,  upon  which 
the  ship  floated  low  in  the  water.  The  boys 
looked  upon  this  with   enthusiastic  delight;  but 


THE  COVE, 


257 


the 


lich 
^oyB 
Ibut 


Solomon's  face  was  turned  away ;  he  waa  bowed 
down  low,  and  staring  intently  into  the  water. 
That  water  was  astonishingly  clear  and  trans- 
parent; and  Solomon  found  an  attractiveness  in 
the  sea  bottom  which  made  all  other  things  seem 
dull  and  commonplace.  He  said  nothing,  however, 
and  the  boys  were  too  much  taken  up  with  the 
beauties  of  the  place  to  notice  his  attitude. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  biscuit  and  the  chest  of 
provisions  were  put  ashore ;  and  Solomon's  first 
act  was  to  take  the  former  out  of  the  barrel  and 
spread  them  out  over  the  grass,  so  that  they  might 
dry  in  the  sun.  But  the  boys  had  other  aims. 
Their  first  desire  was  to  explore  the  country ;  and 
as  they  knew  well  from  past  experience  how  easy 
it  was  to  get  lost  in  the  woods,  they  sought  about, 
first  of  all,  for  some  sort  of  a  path  or  trail.  Noth- 
ing of  the  kind  could  be  seen.  Phil  then  sug- 
gested going  up  the  bed  of  the  brook.  His  forest 
experiences  had  made  him  far  more  fruitful  in  re- 
sources than  any  of  them  ;  and  the  stream  occurred 
to  him  at  once  as  the  readiest  way  of  passing 
through  the  impenetrable  forest. 

Accordingly  they  all  set  forth  by  this  path.  The 
brook  was  not  very  wide,  and  the  trees  almost  met 
overhead ;  the  wucer  was  only  a  few  inches  in 
depth,  chiefly  composed  of  gravel,  and  occasion- 
ally interspersed  with  larger  masses,  which  offered 
a  succession  of  stepping-stones.  As  they  went 
along,  they  never  ceased  to  look  most  carefully  in 

17 


258 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


!!1 


all  directions  for  any  traces  of  a  path,  however 
faint.  The  utter  absence  of  anything  of  the  sort 
excited  their  surprise,  but  only  led  them  to  con- 
tinue their  journey  still  farther.  The  way  at 
length  grew  more  difficult.  They  came  to  a  rising 
ground,  where  the  brook  had  worn  a  bed  for  itself. 
Here  the  path  becaLie  rough,  and  full  of  mud  and 
clay.  Every  few  steps  they  came  to  trees  which 
had  fallen  across.  But  they  worked  their  way 
along  bravely,  and  at  h^ngtli  reached  the  top  of 
the  rising  ground.  Here  iiey  found  themselves 
in  the  forest,  with  nothing  visible  on  every  side 
but  spruce  trees  of  moderate  size.  They  walked 
on  for  two  or  three  hours,  traversing  fallen  trees, 
and  rocks,  and  mud ;  but  at  length  they  came  to  a 
place  where  the  brook  lost  itself  in  a  swampy  soil. 
Here  there  was  a  dense  and  impenetrable  under- 
brush, and  no  longer  even  such  a  pathway  as  the 
bed  of  the  brook  had  afforded.  They  all  saw  that 
it  was  impossible  to  proceed  any  farther,  and  there- 
fore they  concluded  to  return. 

Their  calculations  led  them  to  suppose  that  they 
had  gone  many  miles  ;  }  in  all  that  distance  they 
had  found  no  trace  whatever  of  any  human  feeings. 
They  had  not  come  upon  even  the  rudest  trail. 
This  fact  impressed  them  all  very  forcibly.  Hither- 
to, each  one  had  had  a  different  theory  as  to  the 
country;  and  no  .ass  than  five  provinces  were 
claimed,  in  order  to  support  the  theory  of  each. 
But    they  all   knew    that    it  would   be    difficult 


' 


THE   RETURN. 


259 


fbey 
thev 
(ngs. 
[rail, 
iher- 
the 
ere 
lach. 
cult 


indeed  to  find  a  place  in  any  one  of  those  five 
provinces,  where  a  march  could  be  made  for  so 
great  a  distance,  without  encountering  some  signs 
of  humanity,  past,  if  not  present.  I*i  tJl  of  thera 
tiie  woods  had  been  scoured  by  lumbering  parties, 
or,  at  least,  by  hunting  parties  ;  and  if  there  were 
no  paths  made  by  lumbermen,  there  might  be  found, 
at  least,  some  trail.  Pat,  of  course,  gave  up  the 
Magdalen  Islands  ;  Bruce  gave  up  Miramichi ;  Tom, 
Prince  Edward's  Island  ;  and  Bart,  Cape  Breton. 
There  remained,  then,  the  belief  of  Phil  in  New- 
foundland, and  that  of  Arthur  in  Gaspe.  Upon 
these  two  localities  the  party  divided  ;  and  though 
in  the  laborious  journey  back  they  were  too  much 
fatigued  to  expend  their  breath  in  argument,  yet, 
when  they  did  reach  their  journey's  end,  they 
were  all  prepared  for  it. 

But  all  argument  was  postponed  for  the  present 
by  the  advent  of  dinner. 

It  was  late  when  they  got  back.  They  had 
eaten  nothing  since  breakfast.  They  fjund  Sol- 
omon waiting  for  them  most  impatiently.  He  had 
kindled  a  fire  under  a  rock,  and  had  taken  the 
trouble  to  go  back  to  the  ship  for  some  pots,  ket- 
tles, and  pans.  A  pot  was  even  now  hanging  over 
the  fire,  and  when  they  reached  the  place,  there 
issued  from  this  pot  a  stream  so  savory,  so  aro- 
matic, so  odoriferous,  and  so  enticing,  that  in  an 
instant  every  other  thou^^^ht  vanished  from  their 
minds. 


260 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


"  0,  Solomon/'  was  the  cry,  "  what  is  it  that 
you've  got  there  ?  " 

And  they  rushed  up  to  the  place. 

But  Solomon,  brandishing  a  huge  ladle,  waved 
them  back  witli  solemn  dignity. 

"  You  look  heah,  chilen ;  don't  you  go  bodder 
yer  heads  bout  dis  yer ;  it's  a  kine  o'  soup  dat  I 
ben  a  concoctin' ;  an  you'll  know  when  de  time 
comes.  Jes  now,  you'd  all  bes  lie  down  ober  dar, 
an  res  yourselves.  I  ben  worritin'  bout  you  for 
ten  hour  an  more.  You  didn't  ought  to  go  for  to 
'crease  de  'ziety  ob  dis  ole  man;  cos  he  ain't  able 
to  hole  up.  But  nebber  mind  ;  you're  all  safe  an 
soun  ;  so  now  you  all  jes  lay  by  a  few  minutes,  an 
I'll  walk  dis  yer  dish  off  de  hook  in  no  time." 

The  boys  respected  Solomon's  whim,  and  fell 
back.  A  few  dishes,  with  spoons,  were  lying  on 
the  grass,  and  towan  j  these  they  allowed  them- 
selves to  drift,  and  then  flung  their  weary  frames 
upon  the  ground  near  by. 

Solomon  was  true  to  his  word.  He  did  not  keep 
them  long  waiting.  In  a  short  time  he  took  the 
pot  off  the  fire,  and  brought  it  towards  tliem.  He 
then  filled  each  of  the  dishes  in  silence.        ^^ 

The  savory  steam  rose  up;  its  odor  was  now 
unmistakable.  Scarce  able  to  believe  the  evidence 
of  the  sense  of  smell,  the>  hurried  to  appeal  to 
that  of  taste.  One  mouthful  was  enough.  A  cry 
of  joy  burst  from  them  all,  followed  by,  — 

"  Oysters  I  Oyster  stew  !  O,  glorious  I  Sol- 
omon, where  in  the  world  did  you  find  these  ?  " 


to 
vy 

ol- 


,  SOLOMON   AGAIN  IN  HIS   GLORY. 


o,<?1 


#' 


Solomon's  e3'e9  beamed  with  quiet  exultation; 
he  drew  a  long  breath  of  silent  rapture,  and  gently 
rubbed  his  old  hands  together.  For  a  few  mo- 
ments his  emotions  deprived  him  of  the  power  of 
utterance ;  but  at  length  he  found  voice. 

"  Well,  chilen,  to  tell  de  troof,  I  intended  it  as  a 
great  'prise  for  you.  I  saw  dem  dia  yer  mornin 
when  we  landed,  and  didn't  say  nuftin.  But  dar 
dey  is  —  dem's  um.  De  cove  is  full ;  nuff  heah  to 
feed  a  ship's  company  ten  years ;  an  we's  boun  to 
feed  on  de  fat  ob  de  Ian  so  long  as  we  stick  to  dis 
yer  place.     Dat's  so ;  mind  I  tell  you.     Yes,  sir." 

After  such  a  repast  as  this,  they  all  felt  much 
more  able  to  grapple  with  the  difficulties  of  their 
situation.  And  now  once  more  arose  the  question, 
what  land  this  was  upon  which  they  had  been 
thrown. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Arthur,  "  there's  no  use  now 
to  talk  about  the  Magdalen  Islands,  or  Prince  Ed- 
ward's Island,  or  Cape  Breton,  or  even  Miramichi. 
This  coast  lies  east  and  west,  as  we  saw  while  wo 
were  drifting  towards  it.  We  came  from  a  south- 
east direction  towards  it ;  we  can  tell  now.  There's 
the  west,  where  the  sun  is  soon  going  to  set,  and 
there's  the  south.  Now,  my  idea  is,  that  this  must 
be  Gasp^.  Besides,  the  desolation  of  the  country 
shows  that  it  must  be  Gaspd." 

Phil  shook  his  head. 

"  Gaspd  doesn't  lie  east  and  west,"  said  he ;  "  and 
it  may  just  as  well  be  Miramichi  as  Gaspd.     The 


2C2 


PICKED   UP   ADKIFT. 


fact  is,  it  can't  be  either  of  them.  It  must  bo 
Newfoundland.  We've  drifted  up  from  the  south, 
and  have  been  driven  upon  these  shores.  I  can't 
imagine  where  it  is,  but  I  rather  think  it  may  be 
the  south-west  corner  of  the  island.  If  that  is 
right,  tlien  settlements  ought  to  be  not  very  far 
away  ;  only  we  can't  get  to  them  by  land.  There's 
St.  Pierre's  Island  east,  and  there's  tiie  Bay  of 
Islands." 

"  It's  rather  a  bad  lookout  for  us,"  said  Tom, 
"  if  there  isn't  any  pettlement  nearer  than  St. 
Pierre  or  the  Bay  of  Islands.  Why,  there  are 
hundreds  of  miles  of  the  roughest  coast  in  the 
world  lying  between.  AVe  may  be  on  the  coast, 
as  yon  say  ;  somewhere  between  Cape  Ray  and 
Fortune's  Bay ;  but  how  we  are  ever  to  get  to 
any  settlement  is  a  little  beyond  me." 
•     "  There's  the  boat,"  said  Bart. 

"What  can  we  do  with  the  boat?"  said  Tom. 
"  We  have  no  oars.  I  don't  feel  inclined  to  set  out 
on  a  long  journey  with  paddles  like  those.  They 
do  very  well  to  land  a  shipwrecked  party,  but  are 
liardly  the  things  to  start  off  with  on  a  sea  voyage. 
I  tried  going  about  with  a  bit  of  board  once,  and 
didn't  find  that  it  worked  .very  well." 

"  0,  we  can  rig  up  a  sail.  We  can  get  some- 
thing on  board  the  Petrel  that'll  do —  some  quilts, 
or,  better  yet,  some  sheets." 

"  Sheets  aren't  big  enough,"  said  Arthur.    ^ 

"  Well,  we  can   sew  two  or  three  of  them  to- 


RESOLUTION.   5 


2G3 


' 


getlior.  They're  good,  strong  sheets,  and  they'll 
do  very  well  for  the  boat.  As  for  a  mast,  why,  we 
can  find  a  very  good  one  here  in  the  woods  in  five 
minutes."  ! 

*'  But  what  direction  should  we  take?  " 

"  Well,  that's  a  question  that  requires  a  good 
deal  of  careful  consideration." 

"  My  opinion  is,"  said  Tom,  "  that  it  is  by  far  the 
best  to  sail  east.  If  we  sail  west,  we  could  scarce 
hope  to  meet  with  any  one  till  we  got  to  the  Bay 
of  Islands  ;  and  we'd  have  to  double  Cape  Ray, — 
which  is  altogether  too  dangerous  a  thing  for  a 
little  boat  like  this.  But  if  we  go  east,  we'll  have 
more  chances  of  shelter  in  case  of  storms,  and  we'll 
be  sure  to  reach  some  sort  of  settlement,  either 
St.  Pierre  or  some  fishing  stations  on  the  main 
land,  or  in  Fortune's  Bay." 

"  Eastj  then,  is  the  course,"  said  Bart.  "  And 
now,  wlio  of  us  siiaU  go  ?    We'd  better  not  all  go." 

"  Well,  no  ;  I  suppose  not." 

"Of  course  not,"  said  Bruce.  "The  boat  isn't 
large  enough.  Two  will  be  plenty.  The  rest  of 
us  can  stay  here." 

"If  the  boat  goes,"  said  Arthur,  "those  of  us 
who  stay  behind  won't  be  able  to  go  on  board  the 
ship.     Shall  we  sta}^  aboard  or  ashore  ?  " 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Pat,  "  I  won't  put  a  fut 
aboard  that  ship  again  as  long  as  I  live." 

"  I'll  stay  here,  or  else  go  in  the  boat,"  said  Phil. 
"  I'm  ready  to  do  either."      .      r-  -  <,  ^ 


264 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


"  I'm  quite  of  Pat's  opinion,"  said  Arthur. 

"  Well,  I'm  not  anxious  to  visit  the  ship  again," 
said  Bart,  "  not  even  as  a  salvor,  and  I  certainly 
would  not  stay  aboard  of  her." 

"  It's  too  comfortable  here  altogether,"  said  Tom. 

"  And  so  say  I,"  said  Bruce.  '*  The  fact  is,  boys, 
we're  all  of  one  mind  about  the  Petrel.  Her  glory 
is  departed ;  and  after  that  night  in  the  mizzen-top, 
we  don't  fancy  trj'ing  any  other  nights." 

"  Fortunately,"  said  Tom, "  the  wind  has  changed. 
It'll  be  fair  for  the  boat  if  she  goes  east." 

"  But  who  are  to  go?  "  said  Phil. 

"  I  think,"  said  Bruce,  "  that  the  best  way  will 
be  to  draw  lots.     What  do  you  say,  boys?" 

To  this  proposal  they  all  assented.  Bruce  there- 
upon took  some  bits  of  grass,  and  broke  them  up 
into  different  lengths. 

"  Two  of  these,"  said  he,  "  are  short ;  the  rest 
are  long.  Those  who  draw  the  short  ones  are  to 
go  in  the  boat.     Will  that  do  ?  " 

"AH  right." 

Upon  this  Bruce  put  the  pieces  of  grass  in  his 
hat,  stirred  them  about,  and  then  laid  the  hat  in 
the  midst.  Each  one  then  shut  his  eyes  and  took 
a  piece  of  grass  from  the  hat.  Then  they  all  held 
them  forth. 

And  it  was  seen  that  the  two  shortest  pieces  had 
been  drawn  by  Arthur  and  Tom. 

Upon  this  every  one  of  the  other  boys  offered 
to  exchange  places  with  either  one  of  these,  and 


THE  FATED   TWO. 


2C5 


1) 


go  in  Ill's  stead.  But  Arthur  and  Tom  w^ro  both 
firm  in  their  refusal. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  take  with  you  ?  "  asked 
Bart. 

"  Well,"  said  Arthur,  "  first  of  all,  we'll  need  to 
have  a  sail.  I  think  we'd  better  make  a  raid  on 
the  Petrel  at  once,  and  hunt  up  some  sheets.  Tom 
and  I  will  go,  and  you  fellows  might  find  a  couple 
of  sticks  that'll  do  for  the  mast  and  pole.'^ 

"  0,  by  the  way,'*  said  Bart,  "  if  you're  going 
aboard,  you'd  better  bring  back  some  more  biscuit. 
We  won't  have  enough. '* 

"  I'll  go  and  help  you,"  said  Bruce. 

"  And  I  too,"  said  Phil. 

The  boys  now  pushed  off,  —  Arthur,  and  Tom, 
and  Bruce,  and  Phil.  In  about  a  quartet*  of  an 
hour  they  reached  the  ship,  and  boarded  her.  They 
noticed  now  that  the  change  of  the  wind  had 
caused  a  corresponding  change  of  position.  She 
had  swung  round  at  her  anchor,  and  was  very 
much  nearer  the  headland  before  spoken  of. 

"  It's  my  opinion."  said  Tom,  "  that  she's  been 
dragging  her  anchor  a  little." 

'*  She's  certainly  a  good  deal  nearer  the  shore," 
said  Arthur. 

"  She's  so  deep  down,"  said  Bruce,  "  that  she'll 
touch  bottom  if  she  drags  much  longer,  —  and  a 
strong  breeze  might  do  it  too." 

"  If  it  does,"  said  Phill  "  then  good  by  forever 
to  her.    A  timber  ship  may  hold  together  as  long 


2GG 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


as  she  keeps  in  deep  water ;  but  these  rocks  would 
soon  grind  her  to  powder,  if  she  touched  them.'' 
"  Let  her  grind,"  say  I. 
"  Yes.     I  give  up  my  share  of  the  salvage." 
"  The  best  place  for  her  will  be  the  bottom  of  the 


sea. 


y) 


"  At  any  rate,  we'll  make  one  final  haul,  boys,  and 
take  ashore  everything  that  may  be  needed  at  all." 

The  boys  now  hurried  to  complete  their  prep- 
arations, for  the  sun  was  not  more  than  one  half 
hour  above  the  horizon,  and  there  was  no  time  to 
spare.  Arthur  went  to  secure  the  sails.  He  se- 
lected a  half  dozen  of  the  largest  sheets,  and  flung 
them  into  the  boat.  They  were  the  coarsest  and 
strongest  which  he  could  find.  Tom  found  some 
sail  needles  and  sail  twine  in  a  drawer  in  the 
pantry,  where  he  remembered  having  seen  them 
before. 

They  then  rolled  out  four  barrels  of  biscuit,  and 
put  them  on  board  the  boat.  After  this  they  put 
six  hams  in  her,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  potted  meat, 
and  canned  vegetables,  and  other  dainties.  Phil 
looked  with  longing  eyes  at  the  .galley  stove,  but 
concluded  that  it  was  best  not  to  try  to  convey 
that  ashore.  Finally,  they  took  all  the  blankets, 
for  they  were  articles  that  promised  to  be  always 
useful. 

With  this  cargo  they  returned  to  the  shore. 

Arthur  then  went  to  work  at  his  sail,  while  Tom 
went  to  see  about  the  mast.    Ho  found  that  Bart 


?i 


t 

I 


FINAL  PREPARATIONS. 


267 


had  already  nearly  finished  one  that  was  very 
suitable.  In  smoothing  this,  in  fitting  it  into  the 
boat,  and  in  shaping  a  pole,  another  hour  or  so  was 
taken  up.  Meanwhile  Arthur  had  found  that  three 
of  the  sheets  were  large  enough.  These  he  stitched 
together,  and  afterwards  cut  it  the  right  shape. 
It  was  then  secured  to  the  mast,  and  the  little  boat 
was  all  ready  for  her  voyage.  i 

But  they  had  still  more  preparations  to  make. 
First  of  all,  the  spy -glass,  which  had  been  brought 
ashore  in  the  chest,  was  deposited  in  the  boat. 
Then,  a  barrel  of  the  biscuit  that  Solomon  had 
dried  in  the  sun  was  put  on  board,  together  with 
a  sufficient  supply  of  potted  meats.  A  jug  of 
water  was  considered  sufficient,  as  they  expected 
to  land  from  time  to  time,  and  would  be  able  to 
replenish  it,  if  it  should  be  necessary.  For  warmth 
or  shelter,  three  or  four  blankets,  which  the  care- 
ful forethought  of  Solomon  had  dried  in  front  of 
the  blazing  fire,  were  deemed  amply  sufficient. 

Before  these  were  completed  it  was  dark.  Of 
course  they  had  no  intention  of  setting  off  that 
evening,  though  Tom  was  at  first  of  the  opinion 
that  they  had  better  start,  and  take  advantage  of 
so  fine  a  night.  But  the  others  overruled  him,  and 
expressed  the  opinion  that  they  had  better  sail  by 
night  as  little  as  possible. 

Solomon  kept  the  fire  heaped  high  with  fuel, 
not  for  the  purposes  of  varmth,  for  the  air  was 
balmy  and  pleasant,  but  more  for  the  sake  of  cheer- 


2G8 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


fulness.  He  had  found  no  difficulty  in  procuring 
dry  wood  from  the  fallen  trees  in  the  forest. 
Brightly  the  flames  leaped  up,  throwing  a  pleasant 
glow  over  the  surrounding  scene.  The  contrast 
between  this  evening  and  the  evening  of  the  pre- 
vious day  was  thought  of  and  felt  by  all ;  and 
more  than  once  there  arose  from  the  warm,  grate- 
ful hearts  of  these  honest  lads  a  prayer  of  thank- 
fulness to  that  Being  who  had  heard  their  cry  in 
the  stormy  sea,  and  had  saved  them  from  destruc- 
tion. 

Early  the  next  morning  they  were  all  awake. 
Solomon  already  had  breakfast  prepared.  It  was 
a  bright  and  beau,tiful  morning.  The  little  cove 
looked  charming.  Out  on  the  sea  the  Petrel  still 
floated  ;  but  they  were  all  sure  that  she  was  nearer 
than  ever  to  the  headland. 

A  pleasant  breeze  was  blowing,  and  all  things 
promised  well.  Arthur  and  Tom  finished  their 
breakfast,  and  then,  bidding  all  the  rest  good  by, 
they  embarked,  and  pushed  off. 

The  wind  filled  the  sail,  and  the  little  boat  moved 
out  of  the  cove,  and  away  to  sea.  The  boys 
watched  their  departing  friends  in  solemn  silence, 
until  the  white  sail  disappeared  around  the  head- 
land. 


SPECULATIONS   OF  BART. 


XX. 

Trouble  ayid   Consolation.  —  A  fresh  Proposal.  — 

The  Building  of  the  Camp.  —  Hard  Work.  —  The 
triumphant  Result.  —  Blisters  and  Balsam,  — 
A  new  Surprise  by  Solomon.  —  Illumination.  — 

The  rising  Wind.  —  Theij  go  forth  to  explore, 
—  Tlie  impending  Fate  of  the  Petrel.  —  Wind  and 

Wave.  —  A  rough  Resting-place.  —  Wliat  luill  be 
the  Fate  of  the  Ship  ?  —  The  Headland.  —  The 

View. —  Where  are  our  departed  Friends  ? 


'FTER  the  little  white  sail  had  disappeared 
around  the  headland,  the  boys  stood  in 
silence  for  some  time.  The  departure  of 
Arthur  and  Tom  had  made  a  perceptible  breach  in 
their  numbers,  and  the  thought  that  they  had  gone 
on  a  long,  an  uncertain,  and  a  perilous  expedition 
seemed  to  throw  an  air  of  gloom  over  those  who 
remained  behind. 

Bart  was  the  first  to  rouse  himself. 
"Seventy-four  hours,  with  this  wind,  ought  to 
do  it,"  said  he.     ^  ' 

"Do  what?"  asked  Bruce.     '  * 

"  Well,"  said  Bart,  "  I've  been  making  a  calcu- 


A; 


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270 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


lation.  I  don't  see  ho^7  St.  Pierre  can  be  more 
than  a  hundred  miles  from  here  at  the  very  far- 
thest. Now,  this  breeze  ought  to  take  them  four 
or  five  miles  an  hour,  and  if  they  went  on  without 
stopping,  they  certainly  ought  to  reach  St,  Pierre 
by  this  time  to-morrow,  even  if  they  don't  find  any 
settlements  or  any  fishing  vessels  on  the  way." 

"  Yes ;  but  they  won't  find  it  so  easy  to  get 
back,"  said  Bruce. 

"  0,  yes,  they  will,"  said  Bart.  "  They  won't 
have  to  work  their  own  way  back.  They'll  get  a 
schooner,  and  have  no  trouble."  :- 

"  Well,"  said  Bruce,  "  we'll  have  to  allow  a  week, 
at  least."  -  ' 

"  Certainly,"  said  Phil.  "  It  won't  do  for  us  to 
tie  them  down  to  two  da3's.  If  we  do,  we'll  be  all 
the  time  in  a  fever,  and  watch  for  them  day  and 
night.  I'm  determined  not  to  expect  them  at  all 
this  time."  ^^ 

"  Sure  an  that's  the  wisest  risolution  we  can 
make,  so  it  is,"  said  Pat,  sedately;  "and,  be  the 
same  token,  it's  a  month  I'm  goin  to  allow,  so  it  is; 
an,  what's  more,  I'm  thinkin  we'll  betther  be  afther 
buildin  a  bit  of  a  house,  or  tint,  or  camp." 

"  A  camp  I  "  cried  Bart.  "  Hurrah  I  that's  the 
very  thing." 

"  Yes,"  cried  Phil ;  "just  like  the  camp  in  the 
woods  behind  the  hill  at  Grand  Pre." 

"  The  very  best  thing  wo  could  think  of,"  said 
Bruce.     "  It'll  give  us  all  something  to  do,  and  at 
'  the  same  time  it's  a  positive  necessity." 


^ ' 


PREPARATIONS   FOR   BUILDING. 


271 


.i 


I 


\. 


"  It's  a  pity  we  hadn't  some  of  that  spare  lumber 
on  board  the  Petrel,"  said  Bart. 

"  Well,"  said  Phil,  "  I  think  we'll  have  it  all  be- 
fore  another  day ;  for^  from  present  appearances, 
she'll  be  on  the  rocks  soon ;  and  if  so,  there'll  be  a 
general  free  delivery  of  her  cargo  all  along  the 
beach.     But  we  needn't  wait  for  that."      * 

"  Sure  an  there's  nothin  betther,"  said  Pat, 
"  thin  good  honist  spruce.  We  can  get  sticks 
enough  all  around  us,  an  have  a  camp  that'll  be  as 
warrum,  and  as  dhry,  and  as  whowlsome  as  iver 
was,  so  we  will."  •  r^ 

There  was  a  hatchet  which  had  been  brought 
ashore  in  the  chest,  and  had  already  done  good 
service  in  making  the  masts  fgr  the  boat.  This 
was  now  made  use  of  for  the  purpose  of  getting 
the  necessary  supply  of  poles  and  brush  for  the 
camp.  As  there  was  only  one  hatchet,  they  could 
not  of  course  cut  the  brush  quite  so  fast  as  waa 
desirable  ;  but  Bruce  cut  pretty  quickly,  and  kept 
two  of  them  well  employed  in  carrying  the  poles 
and  brush  to  the  grassy  knoll.  Phil  and  Pat  did 
this  work  while  Bart  occupied  himself  with  the 
preparation  of  the  ground  for  the  erection  of  the 
camp.  He  first  selected  a  place  that  seemed  suit- 
able, where  there  was  a  level  space,  about  "twelve 
feet  square.  Then  he  sharpened  one  of  the  stakes, 
and  cutting  off  a  portion  of  it,  about  three  feet 
long,  he  hardened  the  point  by  burning  it  in  the 
fire.    He  then  marked  out  the  line  of  foundation, 


272 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


and  made  holes  in  the  ground  all  around  the 
marked  space,  so  that  the  stakes  might  be  inserted 
without  any  delay.  Fortunately  there  were  no  stones 
to  interfere  with  his  work.  The  ground  was  sandy, 
and  he  drove  his  stake  in  without  any  difficulty. 

In  this  way  they  worked  until  noon,  when  Solo- 
mon called  them  to  dinner.  All  the  boys  were 
amazed  at  finding  that  the  time  had  passed  so 
rapidly ;  and  they  saw  by  this  a  fresh  and  striking 
example  of  the  importance  of  having  some  pleasant 
occupation  in  life.  It  had  been  for  want  of  this,  to 
a  great  extent,  that  their  time  had  dragged  along 
so  slowly,  first  during  the  famine  on  board  the 
Antelope,  and  afterwards  on  board  the  Petrel.    , 

After  dinner  they  examined  their  work,  and  con- 
cluded that  the  immense  heap  of  stakes  and  brush- 
wood ought  to  suffice  for  the  needs  of  any  ordinary 
camp;  so  now  they  proceeded  to  the  important 
task  of  its  erection. 

Bart  had  made  a  double  row  of  holes  around  four 
sides,  which  were  intended  to  enclose  the  camp. 
These  holes  were  about  a  foot  apart,  and  the  rows 
were  separated  by  a  space  of  about  three  inches. 

The  next  task  Was  to  prepare  the  stakes.  These 
were  sharpened,  and  cut  about  seven  feet  long ; 
and  as  fast  as  each  one  was  prepared,  it  was  in- 
serted as  tightly  as  possible  in  one  of  the  holes. 
Before  long  all  the  stakes  were  set  up,  and  the 
outline  of  the  camp  became  dimly  visible.  Bart 
and  Phil  now  went  off  in  search  of  roots,  which 


se 

i  li- 
es. 
he 
irt 
oh 


THE  BUILDING  OP  THE  CAMP. 


273 


might  serve  the  purpose  of  cords,  to  bind  together 
those  portions  of  the  frame  which  needed  securing, 
leaving  Bruce  and  Pat  at  work  preparing  other 
stakes,  the  one  with  his  hatchet,  and  the  other  with 
a  knife.  The  roots  were  found  witliout  any  diffi- 
culty, most  of  them  belonging  to  a  species  of 
dwarf  willow,  or  osier,  and  they  were  as  flexible 
and  as  strong  as  the  stoutest  cord. 

The  next  thing  was  to  take  four  long  poles,  and 
bind  these  along  the  top  of  each  row  of  stakes,  so 
as  to  form  the  eaves  of  the  camp.  When  all  these 
were  secured,  the  framework  was  quite  as  strong 
as  was  necessary. 

It  now  remained  to  form  the  roof.  This  was  a 
matter  of  some  difficulty,  but  was  at  length  suc- 
cessfully achieved.  They  had  all  had  so  much 
practice  in  camp-building,  that  there  was  but  little 
hesitation  at  any  stage  of  the  proceedings.  The 
way  in  which  the  roof  was  erected  was  so  in- 
genious that  it  deserves  to  be  exph  ined.  They 
procured  two  stout  poles,  about  fifteen  feet  long, 
which  they  put  at  each  end  of  the  structure,  bind- 
ing each  firmly  in  its  place,  and  leaving  at  the  top 
a  fork,  formed  from  the  projecting  stump  of  one  of 
the  severed  branches.  Across  these,  and  resting 
on  tlu'se  forks,  they  laid  their  ridge-pole,  and  bound 
this  fiimly  in  its  place.  To  make  it  still  stronger, 
they  set  up  a  third  support  in  the  middle  of  the 
camp,  and  thus  made  the  ridge-pole  firm  enough  to 
bear  the  weight  of  any  of  them. 

18  ■ 


274 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


XI.  J 


.fter  this  they  proceeded  to  lay  a  row  of  poles 
along  from  the  eaves  to  the  ridge-pole,  and  others 
again  intersecting  these.  Thus  they  formed  a 
framework  close  enough  and  strong  enough  to 
admit  of  brush  being  placed  upon  it,  and  this  they 
proceeded  to  lay  there  after  the  manner  of  thatch. 
The  roof  was  pretty  steep,  and  the  spruce  brush 
was  so  smooth,  and  was  laid  on  so  compactly,  that 
it  could  have  resisted  any  ordinary  rain  storm. 

The  remainder  of  their  task  was  easy  enough, 
the  roof  and  frame  having  been  by  far  the  most 
troublesome.  One  side  was  allotted  to  each,  and 
the  work  was  interweaving  spruce  brush  along  the 
stakes.  The  space  was  twelve  feet  long  by  six 
high.  They  began  from  the  ground,  and  went  up- 
ward ;  and  at  length  this  was  finished. 

There  was  still  an  open  space  at  each  gable  end, 
but  it  was  their  intention  to  leave  windows  here. 
Poles  were  fastened  in  such  a  way  that  a  square 
space  was  left  in  each  gable,  which  admitted  an 
ample  amount  of  light,  and  the  remainder  was 
filled  in  with  brush,  like  the  sides.  The  door,  of 
course,  had  been  attended  to  in  the  construction 
of  the  frame. 

It  had  been  hard  work,  but  they  were  all  adepts 
at  the  business,  and  knew  exactly  how  to  do  each 
thing.  The  consequence  was,  that  by  sundown 
their  camp  was  all  completed,  and  only  needed  a 
few  finishing  touches,  which  could  very  well  be 
postponed  till  the  following  day. 


BLISTERS   AND   BALSAM. 


275 


They  all  sat  clown  to  their  evening  repast  with 
the  consciousness  that  they  had  passed  a  well- 
spent  day.  Solomon  had  done  his  duty,  as  usual, 
with  a  minute  conscientiousness,  and  a  painful 
care  of  the  smallest  details,  which  was  evinced  by 
the  exquisite  flavor  of  the  oyster  stew.  The  chief 
regret  that  they  had  was,  that  Arthur  and  Tom 
were  not  there  to  share  it. 

After  tea  none  of  them  ventured  to  move.  They 
were  more  utterly  fagged  out  than  they  ever  re- 
membered to  have  been  in  the  whole  course  of 
their  lives.  There  had,  of  course,  been  times 
when  they  had  been  more  exhausted,  and  Phil 
could  tell  a  tale  of  weariness  which  might  have 
shamed  his  present  feelings ;  but  for  the  fatigue 
resulting  from  sheer  hard  work,  they  never  knew 
anything  that  had  equalled  this.  Their  hands 
were  all  covered  with  blisters  and  balsam,  while 
an  additional  air  of  shabbiness  had  been  given  to 
them  by  new  rents  and  tatters  in  their  clothes. 

After  sunset  they  noticed  that  the  wind  was 
stronger  and  the  sea  rougher.  The  Petrel  had 
moved  also  still  farther  in  to  the  shore. 

"  Another  night'U  finish  her,"  said  Bruce,  "  if 
this  wind  continues." 

"  I  hope  they'll  land,"  said  Bart,  thinking  of 
Arthur  and  Tom.       .  • 

"  Well,  as  to  that,"  said  Bruce,  "  it  seems  to  me 
that  they  won't  feel  inclined  to  sail  all  night ;  and 
they'll  land,  if  they  only  can ;  but  the  trouble  is,  they 


276 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT, 


* 


mav  find  themselves  off  some  coast  where  no 
landing  can  be  made." 

*'  1  dare  say,"  said  Bart,  thoughtfully,  "  that  the 
coast  is  rough  enough  all  along,  for  m^ot  of  the 
way ;  but  then,  fortunately,  this  wind  is  off  the 
land ;  so  they'll  be  all  right.  Tlie  danger  would  be 
if  it  was  in  any  other  direction.  As  it  is,  the 
closer  they  keep  in  to  the  shore,  the  safer  they'll 
bo ;  and,  in  fact,  the  safest  place  for  them  would 
be  close  in  under  the  highest  cliffs." 

"  Well,  that  certainly  is  a  consolation,"  said  Bruce, 
with  a  sigh  of  relief.  "  I've  been  a  good  deal 
bothered  all  the  afternoon,  for  I  noticed  that  the 
wind  was  rising.  I  rather  think  you're  in  the 
right  of  it,  Bart,  and  I'm  glad  enough  that  you 
thought  of  that." 

"  0,  they're  all  right,"  said  Phil,  "  as  long  as  the 
wind  is  this  way." 

"  The  throuble  is,"  said  Pat,  "  they  might  have  to 
go  round  some  headland,  and  thin  they'd  catch 
it,  hot  and  heavy." 

"  0,  they  wouldn't  try  it  if  it  was  too  rough," 
said  Bart.  "  They'd  haul  up  ashore,  and  wait  till 
the  wind  went  down.  The  fact  is,  they'll  do  just 
as  any  of  us  would  do  in  the  same  circumstances. 
Neither  Arthur  nor  Tom  is  inclined  to  run  any 
risks.  They  know  that  there's  no  hurry,  that 
we've  got  lots  of  provisions.  They've  got  a  good 
supply,  too,  and  so  they'll  take  it  easy.  My  opinion 
is,  they  both  landed  two  or  three  hours  ago,  hauled 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE. 


277 


up  their  boat  high  and  dry,  picked  up  some  drift 
wood,  and  are  at  this  moment  sitting  in  front  of  a 
roaring  fire,  calmly  discussing  what  had  best  be  done 
to-morrow." 

This  discussion  about  the  fate  of  their  two 
absent  friends  made  them  all  feel  quite  at  their 
ease  once  more,  and  soon  after  they  went  to  bed 
inside  of  the  camp. 

Here  they  found  a  pleasant  surprise  awaiting 
them,  which  had  been  devised  by  Solomon.  He 
had  taken  the  fat  out  of  some  of  the  jars  of  potted 
meat,  and  put  it  in  two  cups.  In  these  he  had 
ingeniously  arranged  floating  wicks,  and  lighted 
them.  So  now,  as  the  boys  entered,  they  were 
surprised  at  a  cheerful  glow  inside.  At  first  they 
were  alarmed,  and  thought  the  camp  was  on  fire ; 
but  a  second  look  showed  them  the  truth. 

Their  camp  now  seemed  very  cheerful  indeed. 
The  ground  was  quite  dry,  and  each  one  rolled 
himself  up  in  his  blanket,  which  formed  tlieir  only 
preparation  for  bed.  Here,  reclining  on  the  soft 
grass,  with  the  green  walls  of  their  camp  encircling 
them,  they  chatted  pleasantly  for  a  short  time,  and 
at  length,  one  by  one,  dropped  off  into  sound  and 
refreshing  slumbers.  <  - 

On  awaking  they  all  hurried  forth.  They 
found  that  the  wind  had  increased,  and  must  have 
been  increasing  all  night.  Close  in  under  the 
shore  the  water  was  smooth  enough,  but  a  mile 
outside  it  began  to  roughen,  and  a  white  line  of 
breakers  shone  along  the  base  of  the  headland.  . 


278 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


But  it  was  the  Petrel  that  now  engaged  all  their 
attention.  She  had  been  forced  in  to  within  a 
stone's  throw  of  the  shore,  and  had  evidently  touched 
bottom,  for  she  lay  a  little  over  on  one  side.  She 
had  reached  a  place  where  the  sea  felt  the  effect 
of  the  wind,  and  the  waves  broke  over  her  decks. 
She  rose  and  fell  occasionally,  with  a  slow,  heavy 
movement,  at  the  force  of  the  waves  that  beat 
upon  her.  The  shore  immediately  opposite  the 
place  where  she  had  grounded  was  all  white  with 
foam,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  bottom  where  she 
touched  might  be  strewn  with  rough,  jagged  rocks. 

Hard  indeed  was  the  resting-place  to  which  the 
Petrel  had  come  after  so  long  a  wandering ! 

The  boys  looked  on  in  silence.  They  did  not 
exactly  lament  the  fate  which  seemed  to  impend 
over  her,  but,  at  the  same  time,  they  felt  as  though, 
in  some  way,  it  might  be  a  disaster  to  themselves. 
For  the  Petrel,  as  long  as  she  had  floated,  had 
served,  at  least,  as  a  sort  of  signal  by  which  any 
passing  vessel  might  be  attracted  ;  whereas,  if  she 
were  destroyed,  their  chance  of  rescue  in  that  way 
grew  less.  They  also  felt  that  the  large  store  of 
provisions  and  supplies  on  board  might  yet  be 
needed ;  and  in  case  of  the  unsuccessful  return  of 
Arthur  and  Tom,  they  might  need  to  visit  her  once 
more.  But  now  all  hope  of  this  seemed  at  an  end. 
In  this  half-developed  regret  at  her  fate,  there 
was,  however,  no  thought  of  salvage ;  that  subject 
was  forgotten. 


AN  EXPLORATION. 


279 


After  breakfast  their  attention  was  once  more 
directed  to  the  Petrel.  Any  further  operations  in 
the  camp  had  now  to  be  postponed,  for  the  attrac- 
tions of  the  imperilled  ship  were  too  engrossing 
to  admit  of  lesser  thoughts.  - 

"  I  say,  boys,"  said  Bruce,  "  why  can't  we  try  to 
get  nearer?  We  can  work  our  way  along  at  the 
top  of  the  bank,  I  should  think." 

"  Of  course  we  can,"  said  Bart.  "  At  any  rate, 
it's  not  very  far." 

"  It  won't  be  worse  than  the  upper  part  of  that 
miserable  brook,"  said  Phil. 

"  Sure  an  Pd  go  on  me  hands  and  knees  all  the 
way,  so  I  would,  to  git  nearer  to  her,"  said  Pat. 

The  coast  that  ran  along  terminated  in  the  head- 
land, between  which  and  the  cove  it  consisted  of 
steep  banks,  at  first  wooded,  and  rough  cliffs.  The 
top  of  the  bank  all  along  was  covered  with  trees, 
and  seemed  to  offer  no  greater  difficulties  than  any 
otiier  part  of  the  woods.  The  headland  itself 
seemed  over  a  mile  away,  and  the  Petrel  was  some 
distance  inside  of  this. 

They  thus  resolved  to  go,  and  set  forth  at  once. 

"  Be  back  in  time  for  dinna,"  said  Solomon,  as 
they  climbed  up  the  steep  bank  to  get  to  the  top. 

"  0,  yes,"  was  the  reply,  as  they  vanished  into 
the  woods.  /     ,  . ,  .  ,  „. 

It  was  decidedly  rough  walking.  The  ground 
was  uneven,  rising  into  mounds  and  depressed 
into  hallows.    Sometimes  fallen  trees  lay  before 


280 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


tliom  ;  at  other  times  underbrusli  so  dense  and  so 
stubborn  that  a  way  could  only  be  forced  through 
with  the  most  persevering  eflfort.  Besides,  it  was 
absolutely  necessary  to  keep  as  near  as  possible  to 
the  edge  of  the  cliff,  for  they  all  knew  how  easily 
they  might  be  lost,  if  they  once  ventured  out  of 
sight  of  it.  So  they  kept  on,  close  by  the  brink, 
even  though  places  occasionally  appeared  which 
seemed  much  easier  to  traverse. 
,  At  length  they  reached  tlie  place  immediately 
opposite  the  Petrel.  She  lay  within  easy  stone's 
throw.  Before  them  the  cliff  went  down  with 
rough,  jagged  sides,  and  the  shore  at  its  foot 
was  covered  with  masses  of  rock  that  had  fallen 
there  from  the  precipice.  It  was  not  more  than 
sixty  or  seventy  feet  down.  On  this  elevation, 
and  at  this  distance  out,  they  felt  the  full  force 
of  the  blast. 

The  Petrel  had  certainly  grounded,  and  it  was 
evident  to  them  that  the  bottom  was  rough  and  ir- 
regular. She  lay  over  on  her  side,  her  stern  nearest 
to  the  shore.  The  bows  were  sunk  under  to  the 
depth  of  about  a  foot,  while  the  stern  rose  a  little. 
She  swayed  backward  and  forward  with  a  regular 
motion,  and  there  was  a  dull,  gringing,  creaking 
noise,  that  came  from  her  to  their  ears,  and  v/as 
plainly  discernible  through  the  noise  of  the  surf 
on  the  rocks  below.  The  sea  at  this  point  was 
quite  heavy,  and  rolled  over  and  over  the  doomed 
ship.     The  long  waves  came  sweeping  up*at  sue- 


WHAT   WILL   BE  THE  FATE  OF  THE  SHIP?         281 

cessivo  intervals,  and  at  every  stroke  the  Petrol 
would  yield,  and  then  slowly  struggle  back. 

"  I  wonder  how  long  she  can  stand  this  sort  of 
thing,"  said  Phil. 

"  Not  long,  I  should  think,"  said  Bart ;  "  but 
after  all,  the  wind  isn't  very  strong  just  yet,  and  if 
there  are  no  rocks  under  her,  she  .may  hold  out 
some  time." 

"  If  this  wind  grows  to  a  gale,  she's  done  for." 

"  But  then  it  may  not  get  any  worse,  and  if  it 
goes  down,  I'd  undertake  to  swim  on  board." 

"  0,  of  course,  if  it  gets  smooth." 

"  What  do  you  say  to  going  out  to  the  point?" 
said  Bruce. 

"  0,  yes,  let's  go." 

The  point  was  not  far  away,  and  the  woods  were 
thinner.  They  reached  it  without  much  difficulty. 
Standing  here  an  extensive  scene  came  upon  their 
view. 

On  the  left,  the  coast  line  ran  on  for  a  few  miles, 
rough  and  rugged  cliffs,  with  a  crest  of  stunted 
trees.  On  the  right,  the  coast  line  was  wliat  they 
had  already  seen.  In  front  was  the  boundless  sea, 
covered  with  foaming  waves.  At  their  feet  the 
surf  thundered  in  a  line  of  foam,  and  tossed  its 
spray  high  on  the  air. 

"  I  don't  altogether  like  the  look  of  things,"  said 
Bruce,  after  a  long  and  silent  gaze  upon  the  sea 
and  the  rough  coast  in  the  west. 

"  0,  don't  fret,"  said  Bart.    "  Look,  Bruce,  close 


\ 


282 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


in  to  the  shore  under  the  cliffs ;  why,  it's  smooth 
enough  there  to  paddle  a  raft  in.  They'll  keep 
close  in  to  the  shore,  and  land  whenever  they 
want  to." 

"  Only  they  might  try  to  round  a  headland  like 
that,"  said  Bruce,  pointing  to  a  cliff  which  termi- 
nated the  view  towards  the  left,  at  the  base  of 
which  there  was  a  line  of  white  foam  ;  "  and  if  they 
did,"  he  added,  "I'm  afraid  neither  Arthur  nor 
Tom  —  " 

He  stopped  abruptly,  leaving  the  sentence 
unfinished. 


'••-,   Cii'V 


THE  VOYAGERS. 


283 


smooth 
il  keep 
er  they 

rid  like 
termi- 
ase  of 
if  they 
ur  nor 

ntence 


XXI. 

The  Expedition  and  the  Voyagers.  —  Speculations. 

—  Dinner  followed  hy  a  Change  of  Wind.  —  A 
Squall.  —  Shipping  a  Sea.  —  Nearer  the  Shore. 

—  An  iron-hound  Coast.  —  Bounding  the  Head- 
land. —  Startling  Sight.  —  The  Column  of  Smoke. 

—  A  Man  on  the  Beach.  —  The  shipwrecked 
Stranger.  —  Astonishing  Disclosures.  —  Where 
are  we  ?  —  The  mournful  Truth.  —  Anticosti !  — 
Arthur  contains  his  Soul.  —  The  Boys  and  the 
Boat  both  hauled  up.  —  The  Expedition  ends. 

RTHUR  and  Tom,  on  rounding  the  head- 
land, kept  on  their  course,  following  the 
lino  of  the  shore.  The  water  was  smooth, 
and  the  breeze  continued  moderate,  yet  fair.  The 
sail  worked  well,  the  boat  glided  smoothly  through 
the  water,  and  they  slipped  on  past  the  shore  at  a 
rate  which  was  most  gratifying  to  both  of  them. 
They  kept  away  about  a  mile  from  the  land,  a  dis- 
tance which  seemed  to  them  to  allow  of  a  ready 
resort  there  in  case  of  need,  while  at  the  same  time 
it  was  far  enough  out  to  get  the  full  benefit  of 


[ 


284: 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


the  breeze,  and  maintain  a  sufficiently  straiglit 
course. 

The  coast  was  most  forbidding.  Rugged  cliffs 
arose,  or  rocky,  sterile  banks,  crested  with  stunted 
spruce.  Hour  after  hour  passed  by,  and  mile  after 
mile  of  the  coast  slipped  away  behind  them,  but 
not  the  slightest  sign  appeared  of  human  habitation 
or  of  human  life  ;  nothing  but  the  same  iron-bound 
shore,  and  the  oame  unbroken  solitude.  - 

From  time  to  time  they  came  in  sight  of  places 
which  were  more  inviting.  Sometimes  there  were 
shelving  beaches,  which  appeared  to  be  covered 
with  sand  or  pebbles;  at  other  times  they -saw 
coves,  whose  aspect  was  less  forbidding  than  that 
of  the  bolder  coast  line  ;  and  on  one  occasion  there 
was  a  small  harbor,  v^nich,  in  comparison  with  the 
rest  of  the  country,  wa?  decidedly  inviting,  and,  if 
their  errand  had  been  less  pressing,  they  would 
certainly  have  entered  it,  and  explored  the  sur- 
rounding region.  But,  as  it  was,  they  passed  on, 
noticing  as  they  passed  that  here,  as  everywhere 
else,  there  was  not  a  field,  not  a  pasture,  not  a 
clearing ;  that  there  were  no  signs  of  cattle  or 
of  man. 

So  passed  the  hours  of  the  morning. 

The  sun  attained  its  meridian,  and  the  two 
voyagers  thought  of  dinner.  The  provident  care 
of  Solomon  had  furnished  them  with  everything 
that  could  be  desired  on  such  a  trip  as  this,  and  the 
repast  was  not  only  abundant,  but  attractive. 


A  SQUALL. 


285 


straight 

ged  cliffs 
1  stunted 
nile  after 
hem,  but 
abitation 
}n-bound 

f  places 
ire  were 
covered 
ley  -  saw 
lan  that 
on  there 
with  the 
',  and,  if 
Y  would 
he   sur- 
sed  on, 
ywhere 
i,  not  a 
ittle  or 


le  two 
it  care 
ything 
md  the 


"  I  wonder  what  speed  we  have  been  making," 
said  Arthur. 

"  Five  miles,  I  should  think,"  said  Tom,  "  at 
least." 

"  So  should  I ;  but,  then^  we  can't  be  certain. 
There  may  be  currents,  or  we  may  be  deceived  in 
our  estimate.  Let's  say  four,  and  then  we'll  feel 
certain.  It's  after  twelve  now;  we  left  at  six; 
that's  six  hours.'^ 

"  Four  miles  an  hour  —  little  enough,"  said  Tom. 
"  Well,  that's  twenty-four  miles.  If  this  sort  of 
thing  can  only  be  kept  up,  we'll  get  to  St.  Pierre 
in  no  time." 

"  That's  the  very  thing,"  said  Arthur,  —  "  if  it 
can  only  be  kept  up.  But  I'm  afraid  it's  a  little 
too  good  to  last." 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  Tom,  cheerily,  "  we'll  make 
the  best  of  it  while  we  can.'^ 

Arthur's  forebodings,  though  not  based  upon 
any  ground  of  alarm,  were,  however,  actually  justi- 
fied by  the  event,  and  not  very  long  after.  For 
scarcely  had  they  finished  their  repast,  "^vhen  they 
became  aware  of  a  very  serious  increase  in  the 
wind.  A  series  of  puffs,  which  almost  amounted  to 
squalls,  came  down,  and  in  a  very  short  time  the 
sea  began  to  rise  to  a  very  unpleasant  extent. 

"  AVe'll  have  to  keep  in  closer,"  said  Arthur. 

^'  Yes,"  said  Tom,  '*  fortunately  the  wind's  off 
the  land,  and,  if  wo  can  get  in  nearer,  we'll  bo  all 
right." 


286 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


But  it  was  not  so  easy  to  get  in  nearer.  Tom, 
however,  took  a  paddle,  while  Arthur  held  the  boat 
as  close  to  the  wind  as  possible,  and  thus,  in  pro- 
cess of  time,  they  drew  her  in  far  enough  to  get 
into  smoother  water.  This  was  not  accomplished 
without  some  trifling  casualties :  several  waves 
dashed  their  spray  into  the  boat,  and  they  shipped 
one  sea  which  was  heavy  enough  to  drench  them 
both,  and  leave  as  much  as  a  barrel  full  of  salt 
water  behind.  This  showed  them  what  they  might 
expect  if  they  dared  to  keep  too  far  away  from  the 
land. 

They  were  now  close  in  to  the  shore,  and  they 
proceeded  onward  slowly,  but  securely.  It  was 
not  quite  equal  to  their  previous  progress,  but  it 
was  free  from  danger  and  inconvenience. 

"I'm  afraid,"  said  Tom,  ''that  we're  going  to 
have  a  turn  of  luck." 

"  0,  we're  doing  well  enough,"  said  Arthur. 

"  Yes,  but  we'll  be  sure  to  come  to  some  head- 
land, and  there  we'll  stick,  for  we  shan't  be  able  to 
round  it.     This  boat  can't  stand  any  sea." 

"  Well,  we'll  wait  till  the  time  comes,"  said  Ar- 
thur, "  and  not  fret  till  then." 

"  It's  lucky  for  us,"  said  Tom,  "  that  the  wind's 
the  way  it  is.  If  that  was  a  lee  shore,  we'd  be 
done  for.'*  .  '  , 

"  Well,  if  the  wind  had  been  any  other  way  we 
shouldn't  have  started,  you  know,"  said  Arthur, 
"  and  if  it  changes  we'll  go  ashore  and  haul  up  — 
that's  all." 


SPECULATIONS. 


287 


-.  Tom, 
the  boat 
i,  in  pro- 
i  to  get 
n pi  i  shed 
I  waves 
shipped 
jh  them 
of  salt 
y  might 
rom  the 

id  they 

It  was 

5,  but  it 

5ing  to 

ar. 

3  head- 
able  to 

aid  Ar- 

wind's 
e'd  be 

'^ay  we 

irthur, 

up  — 


"  We  couldn't  find  a  landing-place  just  here  very 
easily.  I  don't  think  I  ever  saw  a  more  rascally 
place  in  my  life." 

"  It's  rather  rough,  I  must  confess,"  said  Arthur, 
"  but  we'll  find  a  better  place  before  long." 

They  were  within  an  eighth  of  a  mile  from  the 
land.  It  rose  there  in  high,  rocky  cliffs,  crested, 
as  usual,  with  stunted  trees,  and  fragments  of  rock 
at  its  base. 

"  This  seems  to  run  on  for  a  long  way  ahead," 
said  Tom. 

"  Yes,"  said  Arthur,  "  but  I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
behind  that  point  ahead  the  land  got  better.  It 
stands  to  reason  that  these  cliffs  can't  extend  for- 
ever. There  must  be  places  here  and  there  where 
gullies  occur  —  places  where  brooks  run  down, 
you  know." 

"  0,  I  dare  say  ;  but  I  only  hope  we  may  get  to 
some  such  a  place  before  the  wind  changes." 

"  Why,  is  the  wind  going  to  change  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.     I  merely  supposed  a  case." 

"  0,  I  dare  say  the  wind'll  keep  in  this  direction 
for  ever  so  long  yet." 

They  sailed  along  slowly  under  these  cliffs  for 
about  a  couple  of  miles,  and  at  length  reached  the 
point  of  which  Arthur  had  spoken.  They  passed 
this,  full  of  curiosity  as  to  what  lay  beyond.  They 
saw  that  the  land  here  receded  for  a  mile  or  two, 
—  very  gradually,  however,  —  while  several  miles 
ahead  it  projected  itself  once  more  into  the  sea, 


288 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


and  was  terminated  by  a  precipitous  headland. 
These  receding  shores  showed  a  different  appear- 
ance  from  that  of  the  chtfs  which  they  had  just 
been  passing.  They  were  wooded  down  to  the 
water's  edge,  which  they  approached  by  a  gentle 
declivit}^,  while  about  two  miles  ahead  they  dis- 
closed a  wide  area  where  there  were  no  trees 
at  all. 

Whether  this  was  cultivated  ground,  cleared 
ground,  or  pasture,  they  could  not  very  well  make 
out ;  but  they  had  not  caught  sight  of  it  before 
they  saw  something  which  at  once  riveted  their 
attention. 

It  was  a  column  of  smoke  ! 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cried  Tom.  "  We've  come  to  a  set- 
tlement at  last.  Well,  it's  about  time.  Hurrah  ! 
We're  all  right  now." 

"  Yes,"  said  Arthur,  "  there  must  be  some  life 
about  —  though  I  can't  see  any  sign  of  any  settle- 
ment." 

"  0,  there  must  be  a  settlement  somewhere 
about.     We  can't  see  it  yet." 

'•'  There  certainly  must  be  people,  for  there  is 
the  smoke." 

"  The  settlement  is  farther  back ;  away  from  the 
shore." 

"  Yes,  or  perhaps  behind  that  headland.  I  dare 
say  there's  a  harbor  there,  and  a  fishing  settlement. 
This  may  be  some  solitary  house."  ,ii 

'*  Solitary  or  not,  it's  all   tlie   same  to  us.    It 


THE  COLUMN  OP  SMOKE. 


289 


leadland. 
,  appear- 
had  just 
n  to  the 
a  gentle 
they  dis- 
no  trees 

cleared 
ell  make 
t  before 
;ed  their 


to  a  set- 
Hurrah  ! 

ome  life 
y  settle- 

le  where 

there  is 

Tom  the 

I  dare 
tlement. 

us.     It 


shows  us  that  we  have  come  near  to  human  beings 


again. 


)> 


A  straight  course  towards  the  place  where  tno 
smoke  arose  would  have  drawn  them  into  rough 
water ;  so  they  hugged  the  shore,  and  followed  its 
curve,  in  order  to  avoid  the  danger.  For  a  time 
the  smoke  was  concealed  from  view;  but  at  length, 
as  they  went  on,  it  came  into  sight  again,  and  ap- 
peared twice  as  near  as  when  they  had  first  seen 
it.  Here  they  saw  a  beach,  which  ran  away  for  a 
long  distance  ;  and  they  noticed  now  that  the  smoke 
itself  seemed  to  rise  from  a  point  on  the  beach 
about  a  mile  away. 

"  That's  queer,"  said  Tom.  "  The  smoke  can't 
be  from  a  house  at  all." 

"  No,  some  one  has  been  making  a  fire  on  the 
beach.  But  it's  all  the  same.  It  shows  that  peo- 
ple are  living  hereabouts,  and  that's  all  we  want." 

^*  Well,  we'll  soon  know.'' 

^^Tom!" 

''What?" 

"  I  should  laugh  if  this  place  were  to  turn  out  to 
be  Gasp6,  after  all." 

"  0,  there's  no  doubt  about  the  place.  It  must 
be  Newfoundland." 

"Hallo!" 

This  exclamation  came  from  Arthur.  He  said 
no  more,  but  pointed  in  silence,  while  Tom  looked 
eagerly  in  that  direction.  •    * 

On  the  beach,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away, 
19 


I 


290      •  PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 

they  saw  a  moving  figure.  It  was  a  man.  He  was 
running  along  with  irregular  steps,  waving  his 
arms  in  the  air  in  a  wild  way,  and  evidently  trying 
to  attract  their  attention. 

They  at  once  headed  the  boat  in  nearer  to  the 
shore,  so  as  to  meet  him  as  soon  as  possible.  As 
they  neared  the  shore  the  man  neared  them.  The 
beach  was  smooth,  and  his  staggering,  irregular 
steps  could  not  have  been  caused  by  the  rough 
ground,  while  his  wild  gesticulations  seemed  unac- 
countable. 

"  He  must  be  drunk,"  said  Tom. 

Arthur  said  nothing. 

The  boat  grounded,  and  the  next  moment  the 
man  reached  the  spot.  No  sooner  had  he  come  up 
to  them  than  he  fell  on  his  knees,  and,  grasping 
the  bows  of  the  boat,  bowed  his  head,  and  sobbed 
convulsively. 

They  saw,  as  he  came  up,  that  he  was  pale  and 
emaciated.  He  was  panting  heavily  i'rom  his  ex- 
ertions. He  wore  a  flannel  shirt  and  canvas  trou- 
sers. He  looked  like  a  common  sailor  from  some 
ship,  and  not  at  all  like  a  fisherman  or  farmer. 
The  boys  stared  at  him  without  saying  one  single 
word.     ■::;.•■  •  ■     •,    '  ^  ^..  '  .  "■':::'■■■-/' 

At  length  the  man  rose  and  looked  at  them  with 
a  searching  and  curious  gaze. 

"  A  couple  o'  youngsters,"  said  he  at  last,  as 
though  speaking  to  himself.  "  Queer,  too — young- 
sters !     Say,  boys,  is  your  ship  near  by  ?  " 


THE  SHIPWRECKED   STRANGER. 


291 


He  was 

ing  his 
y  trying 

•  to  tho 
)le.  As 
n.  The 
[•regular 
}  rough 
3d  unac- 


ent  the 

!ome  up 

;rasping 

sobbed 

ale  and 
I  his  ex- 
as  trou- 
m  some 
farmer. 
B  single 

im  with 

last,  as 
-young- 


"  Not  very." 

"  Where  do  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  0,  from  over  there/'  said  Arthur.  "  The  fact 
is,  we  got  ashore." 

"  Got  ashore  I  " 

"  Yes ;  and  we've  come  here  to  look  up  some 
settlement." 

"  Got  ashore  !  settlement !  "  said  the  man. 

"  Yes,"  said  Arthur.  "  And  we'd  like  to  go,  as 
soon  as  possible,  to  the  nearest  settlement.  We 
want  to  engage  a  schooner  to  go  back  with  us  and 
get  our  friends." 

At  this  the  man  stared  at  them  for  a  few  mo- 
ments in  a  wild  way,  and  then  burst  forth  into 
laughter  so  strange  and  so  wild  that  both  the  boys 
'felt  uncomfortable.  Tom  began  to  think  that  he 
was  not  drunk,  but  insane,  and  felt  sgrry  that  they 
had  allowed  the  boat  to  touch  the  shore. 

Suddenly  the  man  stopped,  and  looked  at  them 
with  a  totally  different  expression.  He  looked  at 
them  fixedly,  and  there  was  on  his  face  a  certain 
pity  and  commiseration  which  struck  them  for- 
cibly. - 

"  Boys,"  said  he  at  length,  in  a  gentle  voice, 
"  you're  on  the  lookout  for  a  settlement,  are  you  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  look  at  me.  Now  look  at  all  this  country. 
Well,  I'm  the  only  settler  here.  I'm  the  only  set- 
tler you'll  ever  find  here,  if  you  sail  a  hundred 
years.    Do  you  know  where  you've  got  to?" 


292  '  PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 

"  Why,  \ve  thought  it  was  Newfoundland,"  said 
Tom. 

"  Or  Gaspe,"  aaid  Arthur. 

Tlie  man  looked  at  them  with  a  solemn  face  for 
some  time,  and  said  not  a  word. 

"  Poor  boys  !  poor  boys  1  "  he  murmured  at  last ; 
"  p'raps  they  was  worse  off'n  I  was.  An  air  you 
all  alone,  boys  ?  " 

"  No  ;  we've  loft  our  friends  some  miles  back." 

'^  0,  an  you  thought  you  was  on  Newfoundland 
coast,  or  Gasp(3,  an  you  goes  off  to  hunt  for  help, 
an  you  leaves  your  friends.  Well,  now,  have  they 
got  lots  to  eat  ?  " 

"  0,  yes." 

"  Lots  ?  "  repeated  the  man,  with  some  energy. 
"  Lots,  now,  railly  ?  "  .  * 

"  Plenty  —  enough  to  last  them  for  a  year." 

The  man  sighed. 

"  An  so  you  comes  off  for  help.  Why  did  they 
let  you  youngsters  go  ?  Why  didn't  the  men 
go?" 

"  O,  we're  all  boys,"  said  Tom. 

"  Well,  that's  queer,  too." 

"  A  kind  of  pleasure  party,"  said  Arthur.  ' 

•  The  man  shook  his  head  mournfully.  '• 

"  An  so  you  thinks  you've  got  onto  Newfound- 
land or  Gaspe,"  he  said. 

"  Yes.  Why  ?  Where  are  we  ?  Can  you  tell 
lis  ?  And  who  are  you  ?  and  what  are  you  doing 
here?" 


ANTICOSTI. 


293 


,"  said 


ce  for 

t  last ; 
ir  you 

ack.'^ 
idlaiid 
r  help, 
e  they 


norgy. 


V 


3  they 
)   men 


found- 

u  tell 
doing 


Tom  said  this. 

*'  Me  ?  '*  said  the  man.  "  Look  at  me.  Can't 
you  see  what  I  be  ?  Do  I  look  like  a  gontlemim 
farmer?  Is  this  the  country  for  a  emigrant?  Me  !  " 
he  repeated,  with  a  bitter  laugh.  "  Poor  boys  ! 
poor  boys  !  Why,  I'm  jest  like  you.  I'm  ship- 
wracked  —  on'y  I  knows  where  I  be,  an  that's 
more'n  you  do,  it  seems."  . 

"  Shipwrecked  I  "  exclaimed  Tom. 

"  Yes,  wracked  —  the  worst  sort ;  an  tliis  here 
country  — -  so  you  think  it's  Newfoundland  or 
Gas}){)?     Well  —  it  ain't  either." 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  The  worst  place  in  the  world  —  that's  what  it 
is ;  a  place  where  there  ain't  no  hope,  and  there 
ain't  no  life.  It's  only  death  that  a  man  can  find 
here." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Tom.  "  Tell  us 
what  place  it  is." 

The  man  looked  at  them  both,  one  after  the 
other,  with  a  solemn   face. 

^'  I  been  shipwrackod,"  said  he,  "  an  I  been  here 
more'n  a  fortnight ;  an  this  here  place  is  —  Anti- 
costi ! " 

"  Anticosti  1  "  exclaimed  both  the  boys,  exchan- 
ging glances  of  horror,  while  a  feeling  of  despair 
cama  over  them. 

"Yes,"  said  the  man,  "this  here  country's  Anti- 
costi —  an  woe  to  the  poor  wretch  that's  cast 
ashore  here.    For  there  ain't  no  life  here,  an  there 


j; 


294 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT.  ' 


ain't  no  hope,  an  tliere  ain't  no  food ;  an  tlio  only 
thing  a  man  can  do  is  to  lie  down  an  die  as  fast  as 
ho  can." 

A  long  silence  followed.  The  boys  felt  utterly 
overwhelmed.  They  had  all  heard  enough  about 
Anticosti  to  make  the  name  one  of  dread,  and  to 
surround  it  with  the  darkest  gloom  and  tlie  most 
formidable  terrors. 

"  We  thought,"  said  Arthur,  at  length,  to  the 
man,  who  seemed  to  be  lost  in  his  own  thoughts, 
"  we  supposed  that  we  were  on  the  coast  of  New- 
foundland, somewiiere  between  Cape  Ray  and  For- 
tune's Bay ;  so  we  started  oft'  to  sail  along  the  coast 
in  search  of  a  settlement,  and  if  we  couldn't  find 
any  we  intended  to  go  to  St.  Pierre.'^ 

"  This  is  Anticosti,"  said  the  man. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Arthur,  gravely,  "  we'll  sup- 
pose it  is.  So  much  the  more  need  for  us  to  help 
our  friends.  You  appear  to  have  had  a  hard  time 
of  it;  but  you're  a  sailor,  and  we  are  not.  You 
can  help  us.  It  seems  to  me  that  you  can  do  a 
great  deal  for  us.  1  think  we  had  better  keep  to 
our  plan,  and  try  to  reach  the  nearest  settlement. 
If  it  is  St.  Pierre,  or  the  Bay  of  Islands,  or  any 
other  place,  perhaps  you  can  tell  us.  At  any  rate, 
you  can  sail  the  boat,  and  we  can't.  We've  got 
lots  of  provisions  here  ;  so  you'd  better  come  with 
us,  and  help  us  to  reach  some  place  where  we  can 
get  assistance  for  our  friends." 

While  Arthur  was  saying  this,  the  man  stared  at 
him  most  intently. 


THE   BOAT   HAULED   UP. 


195 


J 


"  Well,"  said  ho  at  last,  as  Artliur  ceased,  "you're 
about  the  pluckiest  lot  in  the  way  of  boys  that  I've 
come  across  for  some  time.  All  I  can  say  is,  you 
needn't  beat  round  the  bush  with  me.  You've 
saved  my  life,  and  so  you'll  find  that  Dick  Bailey  is 
yours  till  death.  All  you've  got  to  do,  boys,  is  to 
tell  what  you  want  done,  and  Til  do  it  —  if  it  can 
be  done.  But  fust  and  foremost,  let  me  tell  you 
'tain't  no  use  tryin  to  get  any  further  in  that  there 
boat  this  day,  for  the  wind's  risin,  and  you'd  best 
come  ashore  till  it  blows  over.  We'll  take  the 
boat  up  high  and  dry  out  of  harm's  way,  and  then 
we  can  talk  over  what  we'd  best  do." 

"  Can't  we  go  any  farther  to-day  ?  "  asked  Ar- 
thur, in  a  disappointed  tone. 

"  No,"  said  Bailey,  —  "  no,  you  can't  go  either 
for'ard  or  back'ard,  for  it's  a  head  wind  one  way, 
aixd  the  other  way  is  barred  by  that  there  pint. 
So,  as  I  said  afore,  you'd  better  land.  We'll  draw 
the  boat  up  high  an  dry  out  of  harm's  way,  and 
we'll  wait  till  to-morrer.  By  that  time  there'll  be 
a  change  for  the  better." 

Upon  this  Arthur  and  Tom  got  out,  and  the 
three  drew  the  boat  up  as  far  as  they  could  upon 
the  beach. 

"  There,"  said  Bailey,  "  she's  out  of  harm's  way, 
unless  a  sou'-wester  comes ;  an  if  it  does,  we  can 
move  her  up  further.  But  there  ain't  no  chance 
of  that.  And  now,  boys,  hain't  you  got  something 
to  give  a  poor  feller  to  eat  that's  been  starvin  for  a 
fortnight  ? 


yy 


296 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


Upon  this  appeal  Arthur  and  Tom  at  once  laid 
open  all  their  stores,  producing  biscuit,  ham,  potted 
meats,  and  all  the  other  articles  of  food  which  com- 
prised their  sea  stores. 

And  the  shipwrecked  Bailey  ate  ravenously ;  ate, 
in  fact,  as  though  he  would  never  be  satisfied. 

"  I  ain't  had,"  said  he,  as  soon  as  he  found  time 
to  speak  in  the  intervals  of  eating,  —  "I  ain't  had 
not  to  say  a  reg'lar  meal  for  three  weeks,  which 
accounts  for  my  present  ravenosity,  an  hopin 
you'll  excuse  it,  young  gents." 


.■;.«,vj,     J.!     .,.,7       5"  , 


bailey's  den. 


297 


ce  laid 
,  potted 
'h  com- 


y ;  ate, 

3d. 

d  time 

I't  had 
which 
hopin 


XXII. 


Baileifs  Den.  —  The  Fire.  —  The  blazing  Beacon, 

—  Shell  Fish.  —  Bailey  begins  his  Narrative.  — 
Astonishing  Disclosure.  —  Mutual  Explanations, 

—  Tlie  Story  of  Bailey.  —  Th  3  Crank  Ship.  — 
Springing  aleak. —  The  mut  ous  Crew.  —  A 
Storm.  —  Taking  to  the  Boau.  —  The  Captain 
sticks  to  his  Ship.  —  Driving  be/ore  the  Wind.  — 
Cast  ashore.  —  Hoio  to  kindle  a  Fire.  —  Plans 

for  the  Future.  —  Tlie  Evening  Bepast.  —  The  in- 
satiable  Appetite  of  a  half-starved  Man.  —  Asleep 
in  Bailey^ s  Den, 

fT  length  Bailey's  hunger  seemed  somewhat 
appeased.  ^ 

"  I'm  a  thinkin,"  said  he,  "  as  how  we'd 
better  take  these  here  victuals  to  some  place 
where  it'll  be  more  under  cover,  and  handy  for  us 
about  tea  time.  If  you  like,  I'll  take  them  to  my 
den." 

"  But  can't  we  roll  it  farther  up  ?  This  barrel's 
too  heavy  to  take  any  distance." 

"  Well,  I  don'  know  but  what  you're  more'n 
half  right.    I  didn't  think  of  the  bar'l.    Least- 


298 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


ways,  we  can  put  it  further  up,  out  of  the  reach 
of  any  surf,  and  cover  it  with  the  sail." 

"  We  can  take  with  us  as  much  as  we  may  be 
likely  to  want,"  said  Arthur. 

"  Wal,"  said  the  man,  "  there  ain't  no  fear  of 
anybody  stealin  the  things  here  ;  and  as  the  wind 
ain't  likely  to  turn  yet  a  while,  I  don't  s'pose  there'll 
be  any  danger  of  surf." 

After  a  few  further  precautions,  so  as  to  secure 
the  boat  and  the  contents  from  any  possible  harm, 
Bailey  set  off  to  show  the  boys  his  "  den."  They 
walked  along  the  beach  for  about  half  a  mile,  and 
then  stopped  at  a  place  where  a  high  rock  jutted 
out.  Behind  this  there  was  a  recess  about  twenty 
feet  above  the  beach,  formed  by  a  fissure  in  the 
rock.  A  huge  mass  overhead  shut  it  in,  and 
formed  a  sort  of  roof;  while  the  lower  portion 
had  been  filled  up  by  crumbled  fragments.  Over 
this  rough  floor  Bailey  had  spread  spruce  brush, 
ferns,  and  mosses,  so  that  it  was  soft  enough  to  lie 
down  on.  The  whoie  recess  was  about  eight  feet 
deep,  six  feet  wide,  and  six  feet  high.  Immedi- 
ately outside  a  fire  was  burning,  and  from  this 
came  the  smoke  which  had  first  attracted  their 
attention.  . 

**  I  keep  that  there  burnin,"  said  Bailey,  "  night 
and  day,  an  I've  kept  it  a  burnin  for  the  last  fort- 
night. There's  drift-wood  enough  along  the  beach 
here,  though  ever}^  day  I  have  to  go  further  away  to 
get  it.     Wal,  there's  wood  enough  on  the  island,  if  it 


bailey's  narrative. 


299 


e  reach 

may  be 

fear  of 
le  wind 
there'll 

secure 
}  harm, 
^  They 
ile,  and 

jutted 
twenty 

in  the 

n,   and 

portion 

Over 

brush, 
b  to  lie 
ht  feet 
mmedi- 
m  this 
i  their 

■'  niglit 
3t  fort- 
beach 
way  to 
id,  if  it 


comes  to  that,  only  'tain't  easy  gittin  it  up  in  the 
woods." 
^  The  boys  looked  around  with  deep  interest,  and 
with  varied  feehngs.  They  saw  outside,  by  the 
fire,  heaps  of  shells,  which  seemea  to  have  been 
burned.  .;  r 

*'  Thar,"  said  Bailey,  "  them's  all  I've  had  to  eat, 
every  bite,  since  I  landed  here.  They  do  to  keep 
body  and  soul  together,  but  they  ain't  much  ac- 
count. I'd  give  a  bushel  any  day  for  one  good  bis- 
cuit. What  I've  jest  eat  seems  to  have  made  a 
man  of  me."  '  ;  ^  . 

The  boys  were  silent  for  some  time,  and  at 
length  Arthur  asked, — 

"  How  did  you  happen  to  get  here  ?  " 

«Wal,  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it,"  said  Bailey. 
"  I'll  begin  at  the  beginnin.  Wal,  you  see,  about 
five  weeks  ago  I  shipped  aboard  the  Petrel,  at 
Quebec  —  "   ■'■ 

"  The  what  ? "  cried  Arthur  and  Tom,  in  the 
greatest  wonder  and  excitement. 

"  The  ship  Petrel,"  said  Bailey.  "  Wliy,  what  of 
her  ?  " 

"  The  Petrel !  "  cried  Arthur.  "  What,  the  ship 
Petrel,  of  Liverpool  ?  " 

"  That  there's  the  identical  craft." 

"  And  —  and  — and,"  stammered  Tom.  in  his  ex- 
citement, "  was  —  was  her  captain's  name  Henry 
Hall  ?  and  —  and  was  she  loaded  with  timber?  " 

"And  didn't  .she  get  water-logged?"  said  Ar- 
thur. 


300  PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 

"  Yes,  and  didn't  the  captain  and  crew  all  leave 
her?" 

Bailey  stared  at  the  boys  with  astonishment 
fully  equal  to  their  own. 

"  You  seem  to  know  all  about  her,"  said  he, 
slowly ;  "  and  how  you  larned  all  that  beats  me." 

"  Why,  that's  the  very  ship  that  we  got  wrecked 
on,  too,"  said  Arthur. 

"  Yes,"  said  Tom  ;  "  we  were  sailing  about,  and 
found  her  adrift,  and  all  as  comfortable  as  pos- 
sible." 

"  We  tried  to  be  salvors,"  said  Arthur ;  "  and  we 
were  left  on  board  to  take  care  of  her  while  our 
captain  went  off  in  the  schooner  for  help.'* 

"  And  he  anchored  her,  and  the  anchor  didn't 
hold,"  said  Tom. 

"  And  we  drifted  all  about  the  gulf,"  continued 
Arthur,  "  and  were  out  in  the  most  horrible  gales 
that  ever  were,  till  finally  we  got  ashore  here." 

The  boys  poured  out  this  information  in  the 
most  rapid  manner  possible  upon  the  astounded 
Bailey,  who  now  seemed  fairly  struck  dumb. 

"  You  —  in  the  Petrel !  "  he  exclaimed,  at  length, 
in  slow  and  perplexed  tones.  '^  You  —  you  adrift 
in  that  water-logged  craft !  and  thrown  by  that 
there  ship  here  on  Anticosti ! " 

"  Yes,"  said  Arthur,  briskly,  "  that's  just  it."      \ 

Bailey  raised  his  hand  slowly  to  his  head,  and 
scratched  it  solemnly,  raising  his  eyes  at  the  same 
time,  and  fixing  them  upon  empty  space. 


BAILEY^S  NARRATIVE. 


301 


all  leave 

isliment 

said   he, 
i  me. 


)} 


wrecked 

)ut,  and 
as  pos- 

and  we 
lile  our 

'  didn't 

itinned 
e  gales 
re." 
in  tlie 
ounded 

length, 
.  adrift 
>y  "that 

:t."    '  - 

id,  and 
B  same 


"  These  here  two  young  coves  in  the  Petrel ! 
and  hev  ashore  on  Anticosti !  "  he  murmured. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Arthur ;  ''  and  now  tell  us  all 
ahout  how  you  got  here."  - 

'  Bailey  started,  and  looked  at  each  of  them  silent- 
ly and  solemnly  ;  then  he  looked  away,  as  before. 

"Wal,"  said  he,  at  last,  "this  here  —  does  — 
beat  —  my —  grandmother  !  Wal,  I'll  tell  my  story, 
an  then  I'll  listen  to  yourn,  an  we'll  compare  notes, 
an  in  that  way  we'll  grad'ly  get  the  hang  of  it ;  for 
jest  now,  as  things  is,  I'm  dumfounded. 

"  Wal,"  continued  Bailey,  after  a  pause,  "  I'll 
start  afresh.  I  shipped  then,  as  I  was  a  sayin,  as 
able  seaman,  aboard  the  Petrel.  She  was  loaded 
down  deep  with  timber,  an  badly  loaded,  too,  for 
as  she  lay  in  the  stream  at  Quebec,  she  had  a  list 
ever  so  far  over.  * 

^r  "I  don't  think  I  w\as  overly  sober  when  I  was 
took  on  board,  an  I  don't  think  any  of  the  other 
men  was  overly  sober,  neither ;  at  any  rate,  the 
first  thing  I  knows,  I  finds  myself  thirty  mile  below 
Quebec,  aboard  the  Petrel,  that  had  a  list  to  one 
side  that  would  almost  let  a  man  foot  it  up  her 
masts.  ;.  -:-;, .  ■    ..,.,,■.,  .       =,.,,,>. 

"  The  first  thing  we  all  does,  we  all  begins  to 
kick  up  a  dust.  The  mate  he  swears  we  ain't  goin 
to  sail  the  ship.  -  Crank?  Why,  crank  ain't  the 
word !  Wal,  the  .aptain  he  tells  us  we're  gettin 
up  mutiny,  and  warns  us.  And  we  tells  him  to 
look  at  the  ship. 


302 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


"  Wal,  things  goes  on  somehow,  and  we  gets  down 
the  river  further,  we  grnmbhn  all  the  way  and  the 
mate  a  swearin.  One  night  she  drifts  nigh  to  the 
shore  and  touches.  We  gets  her  off  somehow ; 
but  she  got  a  bad  sprain,  and  begins  to  leak. 

*'  Wal,  we  all  growls  and  grumbles,  and  won't 
touch  the  pumps  ;  and  the  captain  he  threatens,  and 
the  mate  he  rows  and  swears,  and  the  captain  he 
vows,  leak  or  no  leak,  he'll  put  that  there  ship 
across  the  Atlantic.  At  last  things  grows  worse, 
and  the  mate  one  day  puts  a  couple  of  us  in  the 
bilboes. 

"  Wal,  that  only  makes  things  worse ;  and  by 
that  time  we  was  in  the  gulf,  and  rough  weather 
comes  on,  and  none  of  us  would  touch  a  line.  So 
the  captain  he  knocks  under,  and  lets  the  men  go, 
and  promises  us  a  glass  of  grog  all  round  if  we'll 
bear  a  hand  at  the  pumps.  But  we  insists  on  put- 
ting the  deck-load  overboard  first.  The  captain 
wouldn't  do  it,  though,  for  ever  so  long;  till  at  last 
the  wind  blew  a  gale,  and  the  cranky  vessel 
plunged  under  so,  and  strained  and  twisted  so, 
that  at  last  he  was  glad  enough  to  do  it  of  his  own 
accord.  So  we  all  goes  to  work  in  the  midtt  of 
that  there  gale,  and  puts  every  stick  over.  They 
wasn't  much  —  only  deals,  and  easy  handled.  It 
was  timber  below,  and  if  it  had  been  timber  on 
deck,  we  couldn't  have  done  it  nohow. 

"  Wal,  that  gale  went  on,  and  another  followed, 
and  we  all  pumped  away  for  dear  life,  but  didn't 


bailey's  narrative. 


303 


ets  down 
'  and  the 
^li  to  the 
)raehow  j 
ak. 

id  won't 
tens,  and 
ptain  he 
ere  ship 
s  worse, 
s  in  the 

and  by- 
weather 
ine.  So 
men  go, 
if  we'll 
!  on  put- 
captain 
II  at  last 
vessel 
sted  so, 
his  own 
aidtt  of 
They 
led.  It 
dber  on 

)llowed, 
fc  didn't 


do  much.  It  had  got  to  be  a  little  too  late ;  and 
what  with  the  first  touch  on  the  rocks,  and  tho 
straining  and  twisting  afterwards,  the  leak  got  to 
be  a  little  the  biggest  I  ever  did  see. 

"  So  it  vent  from  bad  to  worse.  We  all  worked 
at  last  like  the  old  boy.  No  need  then  for  the  cap- 
tain to  encourage  us.  Wo  worked  for  dear  life 
without  bein  told.  But  the  leak  gained  steadily, 
and  the  storm  increased.  At  last  every  rag  ;f  sail 
was  blown  off,  and  the  vship  was  water-logged,  and 
we  all  had  to  take  refuge  in  the  riggin.  We  saw 
what  was  comin  in  time  to  get  the  boats  up  out  of 
harm's  way,  for  the  Water  was  roUin  over  the  deck 
so  that  you  couldn't  tell  which  was  the  ship  and 
which  was  tho  sea.  We  were  for  puttin  off  and 
abandonin  of  her ;  but  the  captain  he  swore  she 
never  could  sink,  bein  timber-laden,  and  said  tho 
storm  would  soon  blow  over,  and  we'd  put  into 
Miramichi.     So  we  hung  on  as  long  as  we  could. 

"  At  last  the  vessel  strained  so  that  we  all  was 
sure  and  certain  that  she  was  goin  to  pieces  ;  so  we 
determined  to  save  ourselves  ;  so  we  got  dov/n  tho 
long-boat,  and  managed,  one  by  one,  to  get  into  her 
as  she  floated  to  leeward,  and  then  begged  the  cap- 
tain and  mate  to  follow.  The  mate  seemed  half  in- 
clined, but  the  captain  was  obstinate.  He  swore 
he  would  stick  to  the  ship,  and  save  her  yet.  He 
begged  us  to  come  back,  and  told  us  she  would 
float  till  doomsday.  But  we  swore  she  was  break- 
in  up,  and  told  liim  she  couldn't  hang  together  one 
day  more. 


304  PICKED   UP  ADRIFT.  ' 

"  The  worst  of  it  was,  all  tliis  time  wo  didn't 
know  whore  wo  was.  Tliere  was  fog  and  lieavy 
gales,  and  the  captain  hadn't  taken  no  reckonin  for 
weeks/  We  wanted  to  git  off  the  wreck  before 
she  got  onto  the  rocks.  As  for  the  captain  and 
mate,  they  had  the  cutter,  atid  a  couple  of  the  men 
staid  beliind  to  take  off  the  cutter,  and  the  cap- 
tain and  mate,  too,  if  they  should  come  to  their 
senses,  leastways  the  mate.  And  what  became  of 
them  four  I  hain't  no  idee. 

''  Wal,  then  we  dropped  off,  and  went  away  in  the 
long-boat.  We  hadn't  no  idee  where  we  was,  and 
couldn't  tell  the  pints  of  the  compass.  We  thought 
the  best  thing  would  be  to  run  before  the  wind, 
since  we  didn't  know  any  better  way,  and  we  knew 
we  was  somewhere  in  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence, 
and  would  fetch  up  at  last  somewheres.  So  we  let 
her  run,  and  kept  a  sharp  lookout,  or  tried  to, 
though  'twan't  no  use  at  night,  for  what  with  the 
darkness  and  the  fog,  the  nights  was  that  dark  you 
couldn't  see  the  nose  before  your  face.  Well, 
that's  all.  The  only  thing  more  that  I  know  is 
this  —  that  one  night  I  was  sound  asleep,  and  was 
waked  up  by  a  tremenjous  yell,  and  found  myself 
in  the  water.  The  boat  had  been  thrown  on 
rocks  or  surf,  and  had  capsized.  I  struggled,  and 
at  last  found  bottom,  and  rushed  blindly  along,  I 
couldn't  see  where,  till  I  got  to  dry  ground.  And 
it  was  this  here  beach ;  and  afterwards,  as  I  found 
out  how  the  wind  was  blowin,  and  put  this  an  that 


MUST  BE   ANTICOSTI. 


305 


I  didn't 
lieavy 
)nin  for 
before 
lin  and 
he  men 
he  cap- 
o  their 
ame  of 

'  in  the 
as,  and 
bought 
e  wind, 
e  knew 


vrence 


\  we  let 
•ied  to, 
ith  the 
irk  you 
Well, 
now  is 
nd  was 
myself 
wn  on 
3d,  and 
long,  I 
And 
;  found 
in  that 


together,  I  concluded  that  this  was  Anticosti,  and 
now  I  know  it." 

So  ended  Bailey's  narrative.  A  long  conversa- 
tion followed.  The  boys  were  anxious  to  know 
why  ho  felt  so  sure  that  it  was  Anticosti,  and  Bai- 
ley described  his  theory  of  the  position  of  the  Petrel 
at  the  time  he  left  her,  and  the  course  which  the 
boat  must  have  taken  in  such  a  wind.  He  also  felt 
sure,  from  the  character  of  the  coast  and  the  coun- 
try, that  it  was  this  place,  and  no  other.  Then  the 
boys  gave  a  minute  account  of  their  own  adven- 
tures. Bailey  was  most  struck  by  the  captain's 
paper  found  in  the  bottle. 

"  Wal,"  said  he,  "  he  stood  it  as  long  as  he  could  ; 
but  I  dar  say,  arter  we  cleared  out,  he  begun  to 
feel  a  little  shaky.  And  that  thar  ship  did  shake 
herself  up  in  a  way  that  beat  every  thin  I  ever  see 
in  all  my  born  days.  I  was  as  sure  that  she  was 
breakin  up  as  I  was  of  my  own  name.  So  the 
captain  he  thought,  no  doubt,  that  it  wan't  wuth 
while  to  die  for  the  sake  of  an  old  timber  ship,  or 
p'raps  the  mate  and  the  sailors  pressed  him,  and 
so  off  he  goes  ;  or  p'raps  some  passing  vessel  hove 
in  sight,  and  took  him  off.  But  only  think  of  3^ou 
youngsters  happenin  on  board,  and  goin  through 
the  same  identical  fortin  that  I  went  through,  and 
then  us  meetin  this  way  in  Anticosti!  It  doos  — 
beat  —  my  —  grandmother  !     It  —  doos  —  railly ." 

The  question  now  arose  what  was  best  to  be 
20 


306  PICKED  UP  ADRIFT.     J 

done.     Of  course  the  fact  that  this  was  Anticosti 
changed  the  whole  state  of  things. 

"  You  see,  if  tliis  was  railly  Newfoundland," 
said  Bailey,  "we  might  sail  east,  and  event'ly  git  to 
some  settlement ;  but  if  we  try  that  now,  we'll 
have  to  go  all  along  past  the  worst  coast  in  the 
world,  and  then  we'd  get  to  East  Pint ;  and  what 
then?  Why,  the  gulf.  So  we've  got  to  turn  c^jout; 
and  go  back  in  the  other  direction."  .       . 

...  "What?     West?"  '       -.      •    •^'     ^^u^rjl 

"  Yes,  away  west,  or  sou^-west.  I've  heard  tell 
of  some  settlement  at  West  Pint,  the  other  end  of 
the  island  ;  but  I  hain't  no  idee  whether  it's  kep  up 
yet  or  not.  At  any  rate,  there's  Gaspe.  'Tain't 
far  oflf.  We  can  crawl  along  the  shore,  and  then 
cut  across  to  Gaspd,  and  get  help." 

"  But  we'll  go  back  first  to  where  we  left  the 

#  "  Course,  that's  the  first  thing ;  and  then  your 
vyge  ends,  and  we've  got  to  arrange  a  fresh  one." 
^.  "  Well,  can  we  start  to-day  ?  "  asked  Tom.  ^"''^ 
"  To-day  ?  No,  sir  I  Look  at  me !  Why,  Pd  give 
anythin  to  git  away  from  this  here  place  !  Think 
of  me  here  for  two  long  weeks,  livin  on  shell  fish, 
pacin  up  and  down  the  beach,  and  keepin  my  sig- 
nal-fire a  burnin  all  the  time,  and  feelin  myself 
every  day  gradooly  growin  ravin  mad !  Think 
what  I've  ben  an  suffered  here !  Yet  I  wouldn't 
leave  to-day,  'cos  it's  goin  to  blow  harder,  and  that 


"^W 


HOW  TO  KINDLE   A  FIRE. 


307 


iticosti 

dland," 
r  git  to 
,  we'll 
in  the 
i  what 

cJOUt, 


rd  tell 
end  of 
kepup 
'Tain't 
1  then 

ift  the 

>'.;•  iM  1.?,?. 

I  your 
one." 

d  give 
Think 

II  fish, 
ly  sig- 
nyself 
Think 
>uldn't 
d  that 


•^". 


there  cockle-shell  don't  do  to  beat  against  a  wind 
like  this."  .-w  •  ;.-    >.■.•..-    .;<•  . 

,"  But  can't  we  row?"     ti    -    .t    • 

"You  hain't  got  no  oars."  i  .t 
i  "There  are  those  in  the  boat."  wit^ht -.  ,(^'tu>w 
^"  "  Them  things  I  Them's  poles,  or  paddles  ;  do  to 
push  the  boat  a  little  way  through  smooth  water, 
but  not  with  the  wind  this  way.  No ;  we've  got 
to  wait."  ..  . 

Arthur  and  Tom  both  felt  the  force  of  this,  and 
urged  the  point  no  longer.  -  /  :  m    ;,;.v*i   • 

^  "I  don't  see,"  said  Arthur,  "  how  you  managed 
to  hght  a  fire."  >  ..  t  ^,!? 

*  "  0,  with  my  jackknife  and  a  bit  of  flint,"  said 
Bailey.  "  No  trouble  to  get  flint  hereabouts.  I 
got  some  cottoA  wool  out  of  the  paddin  of  my  col- 
lar, and  some  dry  moss,  and  coaxed  some  sparks 
into  a  blaze.  0,  you  give  me  a  knife,  and  I'll  draw 
fire  out  of  any  stone  anywhars.  The  night  I  was 
drove  ashore,  I  crept  somewhar  under  the  clifi^, 
and  staid  there  till  mornin,  and  in  the  mornin  the 
first  thing  I  does  is  to  kindle  a  fire.  I  found  the 
drift-wood,  and  this  seemed  to  be  the  best  place. 
Sea  shells  isn't  the  best  fare  in  the  world,  and  sick 
am  I  of  all  sorts  and  kinds  of  shell  fish  ;  but  glad 
was  I  when  I  lit  on  them  that  first  day,  when  I 
walked  about  nearly  starved.  If  it  hadn't  ben  for 
them  thar  shells  it  would  ha'  ben  all  over  with  me. 
That's  so.  And  this  here  den  wasn't  a  bad  place, 
considerin.     In  fact,  I  ben  a  lucky  man  in  some 


>> 


308  i      PICKED   UP  ADRIFT,    ^a 

things,  seein  that  this  is  Anticosti,  and  fust  and 
foremost,  that  I  got  off'  with  my  life  ;  tor  every  one 
of  the  rest  was  drownded,  and  I've  never  seen  even 
a  splinter  of  the  boat  since."     i  iim  novn^i'  vmi  i 

The  recollection  of  this  gloomy  event  reduced 
Bailey  for  a  time  to  silence.  "      r./.i.v 

The  alternoon  passed  away.  The  wind  increased. 
The  sea  grew  rougher,  and  every  hour  served  to 
increase  the  impossibility  of  a  return  that  day. 
But  the  boys  had  already  resigned  themselves  to 
this,  and  therefore  awaited  the  evening,  and  looked 
forward  to  the  night  with  calmness  and  in  patience. 

At  sunset  the  evening  repast  was  spread  out, 
and  Bailey  showed  his  usual  ravenous  appetite. 

"  'Pears  to  me,  boys,"  said  he,  apologetically, 
"jest  as  if  I  couldn't  ever  git  enough  to  eat  again. 
You'll  have  to  make  allowances  for  a  man  as  has 
been  starvin  for  three  weeks." 

After  tea  they  made  their  preparations  for  the 
night.  First  they  went  to  see  that  the  boat  was 
safe,  and  to  make  doubly  sure,  they  hauled  her  far- 
ther up  the  beach.  Then  they  collected  a  quantity 
of  drift-wood,  with  which  they  replenished  their 
fire. 

"  Thar,'^  said  Bailey,  "  if  so  be  as  any  vessel 
does  pass  by,  they'll  be  sure  to  see  this  here  light, 
and  they'll  know  precious  well  as  how  some  unfor- 
tunate coves  is  shipwrecked  here,  and  is  a  signalin 
for  help.  But,  misfortunately,  I  ben  a  lookin  for- 
ard  every  night  for  help,  and  it  never  would  come." 


ASLEEP  IN  bailey's  DEN. 


309 


"  It  was  your  signal  that  drew  us  in,"  said 
Arthur.     "  It    was    a    success    by    day,    at   any 

rate."         j<'5,v.'-j  •':.»»(   ;■  '  j    r;;.,     i     >,    ;    ;.  ■,      •     ■      ,  ;|f    jij 

They  talked  and  meditated  for  another  hour  or 
80,  and  watched  the  blazing  flames  till  they  were 
tired.  '  '  .   r,^a 

Then  they  all  spread  themselves  out  in  Bailey's 
"  den,"  and  fell  asleep.  ..  . 


; )  t; 


tt'.V^*f•^ 


»,v 


1 


,,i 


i,.:''  '(7;iO 


>^'n  A^ 


BB'>'a<il  ^^^  i^ "'  V"^-.^'3^''^'i   l'';i:>^  ^' 


'4f^ 


M'Y: 


;V''i 


310 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


i 


'  I  A 


'■:i'  f 


t 


1    I    . 


^rr>'tir■:    lo/  ,,']-:>. ./i-juno 


,.  .-I 


J    /    /.'      ;mI      - 


i  '  "v  .1 .'    t   I  /    i  ■ . ;  )■. 


XXIII. 


57*6  Denizens  of  Bailey^ s  "  i)e?i."  —  Morning.  —  A 

Sail  upon  the  Surface  of  the  Sea. —  The  Spy- 

,    gla^s.  —  Exciting  Discovery  to  the  lost  Ones. — 

.  The  strange  Schooner.  —  Exchange  of  Signals.  — 

:    The  Excitement  increases.  —  TJie  Schooner  dratvs 

nearer.  —  New  Signals.  —  They  take  to  the  Boat. 

—  Out  to  Sea.  —  Bough  Water.  —  Another  Sail. 

—  A  strange  Suspicion.  —  Old  Friends.  —  Pleas- 
'.;  ant  Greeti7igs. — Mrs.  Corbet. —  Obloquy  heaped 
)    upon  the  Antelope  and  its  venerable  GommanUer, 

— Away  to  the  Bescue,  j,    .,  ,, 


.';>     'It'- 


€|K  AILEY'S  den  was  a  particularly  well  shel- 
w^  tered  recess  in  the  rock,  open  to  no  wind, 
*^^  except  a  sou'-wester.  The  wind  that  blew 
while  Bailey  and  his  guests  slumbered  inside,  came 
from  the  north-west,  and  therefore '  the  sleepers 
knew  nothing  of  it.-  Out  in  the  sea,  indeed,  the 
waters  felt  its  power,  and  the  foaming  waves  on  the 
following  morning  told  them  tho^tory  of  the  night ; 
but  during  that  night  they  knew  nothing  at  all 
about  it.  Far  down  the  side  of  the  cliff,  under  the 
rocky  precipice,  out  of  the  way  of  the  wind,  the 


«,^     MORNING.   ^,.,. 


311 


'  ^  '^^ 


'yjo 


■>.rt 


;-v.-> 


Hi 


•  r\J 


occupants  of  Bailey's  den  slumbered  on  the  soft 
spruce  brush  and  softer  moss.  All  night  long  the 
fire  burned  outside,  for  Bailey  had  piled  up  the  fuel 
generously,  yet  carefully,  and  had  so  arranged  it, 
by  making  alternate  layers  of  green  wood  and  dry, 
that  it  would  burn  all  night  long,  and  yet  send  forth 
sufficient  flame  to  be  visible  at  sea. 

Morning  came,  and  the  wind  and  sea  had  gone 
down.  Upon  rising,  the  denizens  of  Bailey's^  den 
looked  forth  upon  the  water,  and  saw  that  it  was 
very  much  the  same  as  it  had  been  on  the  pre- 
ceding day.  At  this  Arthur  and  Tom  shook  their 
heads,  but  Bailey  was  sanguine,  and  spoke  en- 
couragingly. '  V;      '^  -     •  >•;     i'^'  — 

"  The  wind  has  hauled  round  a  pint  or  two^" 
said  he,  "  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  it  was  to  come 
round  a  little  more ;  and  if  so,  it'll  be  all  right  for 
us.  A  moderate  north  or  north-east  wind'U  be 
jest  the  cheese." 

'  They  now  replenished  the  fire,  after  which  they 
sat  down  to  their  breakfast.  i^^^w,^  k=w.> 
7  "  80  you  got  all  this  out  of  tho  Petrel,"  said 
Bailey.  "  Well,  only  think  I  Why,  what  gorman- 
dizers them  captains  an  mates  in  the  cabin  must 
be — feedin  on  potted  meats  I  an  only  think  what 
we  eats  before  the  mast !  Hard  tack,  suit  junk,  an 
dish-water,  that's  what  we  eats  before  the  mast ; 
but  aft,  my  gentlemen  won't  be  satisfied  with 
nothin  less  than  Yorkshire  game  pie,  and  Oxford 
sassage  —  and,  what's  this  ?  — -  Bolony  sassage,  an 


312 


PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 


all  tbem  other  condyments  what  you've  got  done 
up  in  them  there  tin  pots.  Wall,  they're  precious 
good  eatin  on  a  desert  island,  whatever  they  be  in 
a  ship's  cabin,  only  they  seem  most  too  good  for 
the  hkes  of  me."  .  •  v,  . :  ,^^vi.rv 

^*  You  ?  "  said  Arthur.  "  Why,  you  have  a  better 
right  to  them  than  we  have ;  for  we  haven't  any 
right  at  all.  And,  as  to  the  Petrel,  if  you  can 
manage  to  save  her,  I  hereby  agree  to  deliver  up 
and  surrender  to  you  all  my  right,  title,  and  in- 
terest in  and  to  any  part  or  portion  of  the  so-called 
salvage.''  •""  ' 

"  And  1  too,"  said  Tom,  chiming  in  with  the  ut- 
most gravity  ;  "  and  hereby  make  known  by  these 
presents,  to  all  whom  it  may  concern,  and  any- 
thing to  the  contrary  hereof  in  any  wise  notwith- 
standing." '\    h  .    .•  ■'■     ^      U         ;     :'     ;       -  '  ' 

Bailey  was  evidently  much  impressed  by  these 
legal  formulas.     He  bowed  very  gravely. 

"  Your  servant,  young  gents,  and  my  'umble 
dooty  to  both  of  you  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  I  don't 
want  any  more'n  fair  an  honest  wages,  and,  if  so 
be  as  you  ain't  in  the  position  to  give  it,  why,  well 
and  good,  says  I ;  but,  if  so  be  as  you  can,  why, 
I'll  take  what's  fair,  and  right,  and  lawful,  and  no 
more  —  "  ^  — .i.. .  .<.j^  T^a'us 

But  at  this  point  this  interesting  conversation 
was  abruptly  termii^dted  by  a  loud  cry  from  Tom. 
His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  sea,  and  were  fasci- 
nated by  something  there. 


i  t 


{it 


THE  STRANGE  SCHOONER. 


313 


t  done 

ecious 

be  in 

Dd  for 

better 
t  any 
a  can 
er  up 
tid  in- 
called 

le  ut- 

these 

any- 

with- 

these 

mblo  '-^ 
Idon^t  ^ 
if  so 
well    ' 
why, 
d  no  •• 

ition  tfi 

^om, 

isci- 


"  A  sail !   a  sail ! "  he   cried.    "  A   sail  I    0,  a 

sail!     Look,  look,  look!"     '"'  '  '•     '  '  '    "  "   '  "  '^'' 

Arthur  and  Bailey  sprang  to  their  feet,  and 
looked  in  the  direction  where  Tom  was  pointing. 
Tom  seized  the  spy-glass,  which  they  had  brought 
into  the  den,  and  examined  more  closely,  while 
Arthur  and  Bailey  watched  the  distant  sea. 

And  there,  on  the  distant  sea,  several  miles 
away,  a  sail  appeared,  unmistakably.  It  was  a 
schooner,  and  she  was  not  more  than  five  miles 
away. 

"  She's  heading  away  from  us,"  said  Tom  ;  *'  she's 
going  away,  out  to  sea." 

"  Don't  be  too  hasty,"  said  Bailey ;  "  she  may 
p'raps  be  only  beatin  up  agin  tliis  here  wind.  It's 
a  head  wind  for  her." 

"  I  wish  it  may  turn  out  so,"  said  Tom. 

They  now  watched  in  silence  for  some  time 
longer.  The  schooner  held  on  her  way  steadily. 
At  length  she  tacked,  and,  wearing  round,  headed 
towards  the  shore.  ■    -^     ■>,  ^  •      - 

"I  knowed  it!"  said  Bailey,  triumphantly. 
"  She's  a  coastin  along,  and  is  beatin  up  agin  the 
wind.  Just  hand  us  that  there  glass  for  a  minute, 
if  you  please,  and  le.  us  git  a  squint  at  her." 

Tom  handed  the  glass  to  Bailey,  who  took  it, 
and  looked  at  the  schooner  long  and  carefully. 

At  length  ho  returned  it  to  Tom. 

"It's  a  fisher,"  said  he;  "a  Yankee  fisher.  I 
knows  the  cut  of  her  jib ;  there's  no  mistakin  her. 


314  PICKED  UP  ADBIFT. 

You  don't  find  any  of  yer  Province  fishermen  git 
up  such  a  turnout  as  that  there.  Why,  she's  a 
cross  between  the  best  class  of  Liverpool  pilot- 
boat  and  a  nobleman's  yacht ;  and  I  don't  believe 
there's  a  pilot-boat  or  a  yacht  afloat  that  can  lick 
that  there  fisherman  in  a  fair  race." 

Arthur  now  took  the  glass,  and  looked  at  her 
long  and  earnestly. 

"  I  say,  Tom,"  said  he. 

''What?" 

*'  Do  you  know  what  I'm  thinking?  " 

"  I  dare  say  it's  the  very  thought  that  I  had." 

''What?    The  Fawn?" 

"  The  very  thing." 

"  Of  course  it's  all  nonsense.  I  suppose  all  the 
Yankee  fishermen,  or,  at  any  rate,  a  great  many,  are 
just  like  the  Fawn ;  but,  at  any  rate,  wouldn't  it 
be  fun  if  it  should  turn  out  to  be  her  ?  " 

"  Well,  it's  too  much  to  hope  for,"  said  Tom ; 
"  it'll  be  fun  enough  for  me  if  she  only  takes  us  off 
—  if  she  only  sees  us.  Hadn't  we  better  pile  on 
more  fuel,  Bailey  ?  " 

"  No ;  'tain't  no  use.  The  fire's  makin  as  much 
smoke  as  it  can,  an  that's  the  best  thing  by  day- 
time. If  that  there  vessel's  beatin  up  the  coast, 
she's  bound  to  see  us  on  the  next  tack,  if  she  don't 
see  us  now ;  and  it'll  only  take  three  more  tacks  to 
bring  her  right  opposite —   .Hallo  !  " 

An  abrupt  exclamation  terminated  Bailey's  re- 
marks. He  seized  the  glass  without  a  word  of 
apology,  and  took  a  hasty  glance. 


xima^  ^u  v.s>^:.rfi 


Ht 


.i^*y^^[\s    ,7(:77"    ,irhih  ^i>ili kf-  iisotnui  ^^  il:»u^  t|iv 

y-d  i&  Buiool  Im«  -saf;!:^:}  Oiil  j(oo:r  wen  Mi-iir'^/i/ 

-^Khud  llmt  j^i^i.)od'  vi:<v  nAi  p-ji  v';-^  e^-.!^  1  ■'' 

ti  ^'iitii^ov/- j^.iG'i  ^ffji?:J:.0  ,>u'1  ;iiw.hU  tiill  o>IH  -rerT^ 
?£LfOf '&^  ^^{r^l  :>q--'i  c>'  •doiffir'  ou*   h'u  ,1)^7/ *^   :,;' 


^^ty^liivH   <UU/I    0'?O«i 


rf- 


■.■;*ft 


'f 


'.V->.i''.  "^ 


rf:'>'"t  • 


I  wMi !  iumwm 


«5 
0) 

Ph 


00 

•J 

m 
99 

OO 

H 

M 


-^^^^•i^iliMi  "l  II UMP^UBjii ifi,  - 


SIGNALS. 


315 


fl   12 


"  They^re  a  histin  an  a  lowerin  of  the  flag  I 
They're  a  sigmilizing,  as  sure  as  I'm  a  born  sinner  I 
and  to  us  !     Hooray  I  " 

This  Bailey  shouted,  quite  beside  himself,  and 
then  dropping  the  spy-glass,  at  the  imminent  risk 
of  its  destruction,  he  seized  a  pole  that  lay  near, 
and  scattered  the  fire  about  in  all  directions. 

"  I'm  a  tryin  to  answer  their  signals,"  said  he. 
"  They  see  us  !  They  know  that  were  a  signalizin 
to  them,  and  they're  a  tellin  us  that  they'll  be 
along  I     Hooray  I " 

The  schooner  now  tacked,  and  stood  out  to  sea. 

"  All  right,"  said  Bailey ;  "  the  next  tack'll  bring 
her  nearer." 

This  reassured  the  boys,  who  did  not  like  even 
the  appearance  of  desertion.  They  watched  her 
now  in  silence,  and  at  length  had  the  gratification 
of  seeing  her  taking  her  next  tack,  and  standing 
in  towards  the  shore.  This  time  she  was  very 
much  nearer.  Bailey  rushed  off,  and  gathered  a 
quantity  of  dry  spruce  twigs  and  moss.  As  the 
schooner  neared  the  shore,  her  flag  rose  and  fell 
rapidly,  and  the  report  of  a  rifle  sounded  over  the 
waters.  At  this  Bailey  flung  his  moss  and  spruce 
twigs  upon  the  fire,  and  a  vast  cloud  of  smoke  shot 
up,  intermingled  with  sparks  and  flame. 

"  We're  gradooly  a  comin  to  a  understandin," 
said  Bailey,  as  he  rubbed  his  hands  in  immense 
glee,  and  watched  the  schooner.  "  And  I  do  be- 
lieve that  the  next  tack'll  bring  her  here.  Boya, 
let's  get  ready  with  the  boat." 


316  PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 

Saying  this,  Bailey  hurried  down,  followed  by 
the  boys.  They  hurried  as  fast  as  possible  to  the 
boat,  and  began  to  launch  her.  As  she  was  un- 
commonly high  and  dry,  this  was  a  work  of  tin>e ; 
but  it  was  at  length  accomplished,  and  the  boat 
was  afloat.  ■'*'''  ^^"'^  '' '  '"*"<'^'  ^'^*  •  * 

The  wind  was  still  off  the  land,  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent, and  the  water  had  become  far  smoother.  Be- 
sides, for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  or  so  from  the  land, 
it  had  never  been  much  affected  by  the  wind. 
They  were  too  eager  to  wait,  and  so  in  a  short  time 
the  sail  was  up,  and  Bailey,  at  the  stern,  headed  the 
boat  so  as  to  meet  the  schooner  on  her  return  tack. 
As  the  wind  caught  the  sail,  the  boat  moved 
through  the  water,  at  first  slowly,  but  gradually 
more  swiftly.  While  the  boat  moved  out,  the 
schooner  seemed  to  be  sailing  away,  and  leaving 
them  behind ;  but  this  gave  them  no  trouble,  for 
they  knew  that  before  long  she  would  wear  round, 
and  come  to  meet  them.  And  so,  with  eager  eyes, 
they  watched  her,  and  waited  impatier^tly  for  the 
moment  when  she  would  turn. 

Suddenly  Arthur  gave  a  cry,  and  pointed  down 
the  coast.  There,  as  they  looked,  to  their  great 
amazement,  tLcjy  saw  another  sail,  far  away,  emer- 
ging from  the  land,  and  standing  out  to  sea. 

"  Wall  —  this  —  doos  —  beat  —  my  —  grand- 
mother I "  cried  Bailey.  "  Or,  in  other  words, 
boys,  it  never  rains  but  it  pours.  We'll  have  the 
whole  fishing  fleet  yet."  ^ 


THE  ANTELOPE. 


317 


wed  by 
e  to  the 
was  un- 
)f  time ; 
he  boat 

tain  ex- 
3r.  Be- 
le  land, 
3  wind. 
)rt  time 
ded  the 
rn  tack, 
moved 
'adaallj 
ut,  the 
leaving 
ible,  for 
r  round, 
er  eyes, 
for  the 

d  down 
ir  great 
r,  emer- 

• 

grand- 
words, 
ave  the 


Arthur  and  Tom  said  nothing.  Tom  seized  tlio 
glass,  and  looked  for  a  few  minutes.  Then  he 
handed  it  to  Arthur  in  silence.  ,  v  nr»/<  jnm 

Arthur  looked  for  some  time  most  earnestly  and 
most  curiously.;,/.. fiih.  .i,,.»»-,jj  ii&\i0d  f),  ^*5w  U  s-ti^ 

"  It's  queer  !"  said  he.  ■.■u."\m^^^i^p 

.    "What?"  said  Tom.        •     •  :  •     -  — 

"  I  don't  believe  there's  another  vessel  in  the 
world  like  that." 

"  Do  you  think  that?  "  said  Tom.  "  It's  the  very 
idea  that  I  had."  ?  n.  ;?.k/  i  %'»',:-  .,-?  -  -,  '•  /viVi' 
p,  "  What!     Not  the  Antelope  ?  "      ,. ,.  ..,,.^,  i; . .  .„ir 

"  Yes ;  the  Antelope  —  her  own  very  old  self" 
'   "The   Antelope!"    cried   Bailey.     "You   don't 
mean  it.     If  it  is  her,  then  it's  all  explained.     So 
he's  come  arter  you — has  he  ?     So  that's  it.    Wal, 
it's  the  least  he  could   do,   arter  gittiu  you  into 
such  a  precious  scrape."       ,^,..  ....^,.  .^^,.,.^.y^,^^ 

i  "  0,-  it's  only  a  fancy.     It  mayn't  be  her,  after  all." 

.  "  0,  but  to  my  mind,  it's  more  likely  to  be  her 

than  any  one  else.     No  one  but  a  friend,  in  search 

of  a  friend,  would  ever  think  of  beatin  up  this  here 

way  along  the  coast  of  Anticosti.     That's  my  idee." 

This  assurance  of  Bailey's  tended  to  strengthen 
the  idea  which  tlie  boys  had  formed.  After  all,  it 
was  not  impossible ;  nay,  they  thought  it  was  not 
even  improbable  ;  for  had  they  not  been  on  the 
lookout  for  this  very  Antelope?  and  what  vessel 
was  more  likely  to  come  after  them  than  this  one  ? 
and  why  should  she  not  come  even  to  Anticosti? 


318  PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 

tf  "  There  she  comes  ! "  cried  Bailey,  (nl  sv.^'^ '  ^^ 
It  was  the  fishing  schooner.  She  was  tacking. 
She  wore  round  easily  and  gracefully,  and  headed 
straight  towards  them.  They  saw  her  draw  nearer 
and  nearer  every  moment,  her  bows  rising,  and 
tossing  the  water  aside  in  showers  of  spray.  They 
also  stood  boldly  out  now,  for  Bailey  was  at  the  helm, 
and  was  a  far  different  sailor  from  Arthur  or  Tom. 
The  little  boat  plunged  soon  into  the  rough  water, 
and  occasionally  a  torrent  of  foam  dashed  on  board  ; 
but  this  was  nothing,  for  all  their  eyes  and  all 
their  thoughts  were  centred  upon  the  approaching 
schooner.  t^Arr/^  i 

"  At  length  they  met  —  the  schooner  driving 
through  the  sea  under  a  cloud  of  canvas.  There 
was  a  man  at  the  bow  —  a  well-known  form  —  the 
form  of  Captain  Tobias  Ferguson.  The  graceful 
Fawn  wore  round ;  the  boat  came  up ;  a  line  was 
thrown,  and  Bailey  seized  it.  The  boys  clan  bered 
up  her  sides,  and  the  instant  they  reached  her 
deck,  they  found  themselves  seized  by  Ferguson, 
who  said,  in  a  voice  broken  by  agitation,  — 

"Hooray!  We've  got  —  weVe  got  you  —  at  — 
at  last !    Where  are  the  others  ?     Why  didn't  they 

come  off  too  ?  "  .nuiii;  W    X.Uf »  -r-y 

"  All  right,"  said  Arthur.  "  They  are  all  safe  in 
a  cove  about  twenty  miles  west  of  this." 

Then  followed  a  torrent  of  questions  from  Fer- 
guson, which  the  boys  answered.  Their  answers 
brought  peace  to  his  soul,  for  it  appeared  that  he 


MRS.   CORBET,     f 


319 


tackfng. 

headed 
V  nearer 
ng,  and 
,  They 
:ie  hehn, 
or  Tom. 
1  water, 
I  board ; 

and  all 
caching 

driving 
There 
a  —  the 
graceful 
ine  was 
n  bered 
ed  her 
rguson, 

—  at  — 
I't  they 

■J    iflSJJf 

safe  in 

m  Fer- 
nswers 
that  he 


had  been  full  of  terror  at  the  coming  of  these  two, 
and  two  only,  and  had  feared  that  they  wore 
bringing  some  disastrous  tidings  about  the  others. 
I  The  boat  was  towed  astern.  Bailey  was  wel- 
comed right  royally,  as  was  befitting  one  whom  the 
boys  introduced  as  their  friend.  At  length  the 
mind  of  Captain  Tobias  Ferguson  was  at  rest ;  and 
the  Fawn,  rounding  on  another  tack,  stood  out  to 
sea,  on  her  way  towards  the  cove,  wiiere  the  rest  of 
the  party  were  encamped.  ^  (>,•  •  'iii  i'*}>;.%v:.i.?  ruic 
!  "  But  you  haven't  told  us  how  you  heard  about 
us,"  said  Arthur,  as  soon  as  he  had  a  chance  to  ask 

a  question.  '-■:• 

Ferguson  seized  his  arm,  and  pointed  over  the 
water  to  the  sail  that  Arthur  and  Tom  had  already 

nOtlCeQ.        1    \i  i      '1}  J' -  ',   .<i    )■-—    /.-i.*i     ;iij,     .  t:    1 1 1  t  i   j>  J^.rfcv'f 

1!  "Do  you  see  that?"  r-vM)!  T  ?iLrU,,f>>  'K>  mi6\ 
e  "Yes;  that  schooner ? "  nif  .fr.rro-j  fnr.v/  nvz/iT 
^  "No;  that  tub,  that  wash-basin,  that  horse- 
trough,  anything  but  a  schooner.  Well,  do  you 
know  what  that  is  ? "        '  '■   '        ' 

"  The  Antelope  ?  "  suggested  Tom. 

^fYes;  that's  what  she  is  called  by  her  com- 
mander —  that  old  woman,  Mrs.  Corbet,  Mrs.  Cap- 
tain Corbet  —  old  woman  I  Why,  I  can  find  fifty 
old  women  down  our  way  that  would  take  better 
care  of  a  vessel  than  him — her^  I  mean.  Well, 
boys,  I  was  at  Magdalen  Islands  when  Mrs.  Cor- 
bet came  there  in  her  wash-tub.  I  felt  uneasy 
about  you ;  knew  something  had  happened ;  asked 


320  PICKED  UP   ADRIFT. 

liim  —  her,  I  mean  —  all  about  it;  but  Mrs.  Corbet 
wouldn't  answer.  Well,  I  followed  her.  I  was 
bound  to  see  what  had  become  of  you.  And  where 
do  you  think  that  old  woman  went?  Where? 
Why,  to  Miramichi !  Well,  I  followed  her  there 
and  back,  and  come  up  to  her,  to  find  her  in  the 
middle  of  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  at  her  wit's 
.  end  ;  for  she  had  come  there  thinking  that  you 
would  be  anchored  there,  and  waiting  for  her. 
Now,  what  do  you  think  of  that  for  an  Old 
Woman  ?  " 

'  The  boys  were  very  much  surprised  at  this,  and 
questioned  him  more  closely.  At  first  they  thought 
that  he  was  too  hard  on  the  venerable  captain  ;  but 
when  they  learned  how  the  venerable  captain  had 
actually  gone  all  the'  way  to  Miramichi,  leaving 
them  in  their  perilous  position,  they  thought  that 
the  V.  C,  aforesaid,  had  gone  too  far,  and  that  he 
merited  all  the  contumely  which  Ferguson  heaped 
so  lavishly  upon  him.  -■       -    ,' 

"  Anybody  else,"  he  contiuued,  —  "  anybody 
else  but  me,  Tobias  Ferguson,  would  simply  have 
gone  mad  at  trying  to  keep  that  old  woman  and 
her  tub  in  sight.  It's  taken  two  days  to  do  what 
mieht  have  been  done  in  one.  I've  sailed  back  a 
dozen  times  to  keep  her  in  sight ;  and  look  at  her 
now  1  There  she  is,  losing  as  much  as  she  gains 
at  every  tack ;  standing  still,  as  I'm  a  living  sin- 
ner. I  sailed  off",  that  very  day  I  was  telling  you 
about,  for  Anticosti,  and  got  to  East  Point.     There 


THE  FAWN. 


321 


Corbet 
I  was 
d  where 
Where  ? 
3r  there 
r  in  the 
er  wit's 
liat  you 
for  her. 

an    Old 

•■■I 

:his,  and 

thought 

ain ;  but 

^ain  had 

leaving 

yht  that 

)hat  he 

heaped 

anybody 
)ly  have 
lan  and 
do  what 

back  a 

:  at  her 

e  gains 

ng  sin- 

ng  you 

There 


I  waited  for  Mrs.  Corbet,  inspecting  tlie  coast  at 
odd  times,  and  it  was  nearly  the  end  of  the  next 
day  before  she  came  up ;  and  oven  then  I  had  to 
sail  back  ever  so  far  to  Gnd  her.  Then  we  began 
to  beat  up  along  the  coast,  against  the  wind,  watch- 
ing all  the  time,  not  only  the  shore,  but  Mrs.  Cor- 
bet. And  there  she  is  I  At  any  rate,  I  won't 
bother  about  her  any  longer.  I'll  hurry  up  to  the 
cove  to  get  the  rest  of  the  boys,  and  let  Mrs.  Cor- 
bet come  along  as  well  as  her  venerable  limbs'U 
carry  her." 

"  But  how  did  you  know  so  well  that  we  had 
drifted  to  Anticosti  ?  " 

"  Well,  for  various  reasons.  Partly  because  1 
found  out  from  Mrs.  Corbet  all  about  her  crazy  ex- 
periment at  anchoring  the  ship ;  partly  because  1 
understood  the  general  set  of  the  tide ;  partly  be- 
cause I  knew  how  the  wind  had  been  ;  but  chiefly, 
I  may  say,  because  I  had  a  presentiment  all  along 
that  you  were  bound  to  get  ashore  on  the  worst 
place  in  all  the  gulf;  which  was  Anticosti,  and  no 
other  place.     1  knowed  it.     I  was  sure  of  it."       - 

Meanwhile  the  Fawn  w^as  careering  through 
the  waters.  The  boys  had  no  regret  at  leaving 
Bailey's  den,  even  though  a  number  of  cans  of 
meat  had  been  left  behind.  Bailev  was  on  the 
broad  grin,  and  felt  no  homesickness  whatever. 
Arthur  and  Tom  could  not  help  contrasting  the 
Fawn  with  the  Antelope,  greatly  to  the  disadvan- 
tage  of  the   latter,  and   began  to   think  that  in 

21 


322 


PICKED  UP  adrift; 


choosing  Captain  Corbet  for  their  guide,  they  had 
made  a  mistake.  But  all  these  thoughts  were 
swallowed  up  in  the  one  great  thought  of  the  de- 
liverance which  they  were  bringing  to  their  friends 
in  the  cove  —  a  deliverance  so  much  better  than 
anything  which  they  had  hoped  for,  since  it  was  in 
the  form  of  old  familiar  friends,  and  not  through 
the  medium  of  strangers.  Even  the  Antelope,  and 
the  much-maligned  Corbet,  as  they  followed  far 
behind;  seemed  like  additional  elements   in  their 

joy. 


-v/^: 


I    \ 


THE  HEADLAND. 


323 


ley  had 
3  were 
the  de- 
friends 
sr  tlian 
was  in 
h  rough 
pe,  and 
ed  far 
a  their 


* 


'■:''■;:■<'- 


v   *\    *l.\ 


!  I 


XXIY. 


Out  on  the  Headland.  —  The  doomed  Shij:).  —  Tlie 
Struggle tvith  the  Waters.  —  Theravening  Waves. 
—  All  over. —  The  last  of  the  Petrel. — An  In- 
terruption at  Dinner.  —  Startling  Sight.  —  The 
strange^  yet  familiar  Sail.  —  A  grand  and  joyous 
Beunion.  —  Away  from  the  Isle  of  Desolation. — 
The  Antelope  once  more. —  Over  the  Sea  to 
Miramichi.  —  Farewell.  —  Captain  Corbet  moral- 
izeSy  and  Sermonizes. 


#' 


UT  on  the  headland  the  boys  stood  watch- 
ing. Bruce  was  sad  and  preoccupied. 
The  others  gazed  uneasily  upon  the  rough 
water.  Could  Arthur  and  Tom  ever  sail  the  boat 
through  such  a  sea  ?  That  was  the  question  which 
occurred  to  every  one,  and  every  one  felt  in  his 
own  heart  that  it  was  impossible.  The  prospect 
was  not  pleasant.  They  could  only  hope  that  the 
boys  had  gained  the  shore,  and  were  waiting  there 
till  the  wind  might  blow  over.  With  this  hope 
they  tried  to  encourage  Bruce,  who  showed  more 
depression  than  the  rest,  and  blamed  himself 
several  times  for  not  insisting  on  going  in  Arthur's 
t)Iace. 


324  PICKED  UP  ADRIFT. 

At  length  they  went  back  to  the  place  where 
the  Petrel  lay.  On  reaching  it  they  found  that  a 
marked  change  had  taken  place.  Thus  far,  though 
low  in  the  water,  she  had  always  preserved  a  cer- 
tain symmetry  of  outline ;  and  to  those  who  might 
stand  on  her  deck  in  fine  weather  and  smooth 
water  she  seemed  quite  uninjured.  But  now 
her  decks  appeared  to  be  burst  open ;  she  seemed 
broken  in  two.  Bow  and  stern  were  low  under 
water,  while  amidships  she  was  above  it.  The 
mainmast  inclined  forward,  and  the  foremast  sloped 
back  so  far  that  they  almost  touched.  Where  she 
had  parted  asunder  the  planks  of  the  decks  had 
also  started,  and  as  the  waves  rolled  over  her, 
every  new  assault  increased  the  ruin.  r 

"  She's  hogged,"  said  Bart 

"  She's  worse  than  hogged,"  said  Bruce ;  "  she's 
completely  broken  in  two." 

"  She's  fallen  upon  some  ridge  of  rock,"  said 
Phil,  "  and  the  weight  of  her  cargo  has  done  if 

"  Deed  thin,  an  the  waves  have  had  somethin  to 
do  with  that  same,"  said  Pat ;  "  and  glad  am  1  that 
we're  all  out  of  her,  so  I  am  ;  and  lucky  it  was  for 
us  that  she  didn't  go  ashore  on  that  same  reef,  the 
night  of  the  starrum." 

The  boys  looked  on  in  silence.  The  work  of 
destruction  went  on  slowly,  but  surely,  before  their 
very  eyes.  Each  wave  did  something  towards 
hastening  the  catastrophe.  That  the  Petrel  was 
doomed  was  now  beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt. 


THE  DOOMED   SHIP. 


325 


said 
it/' 


fc  of 

heir 
ards 
was 
ubt. 


Rocks  were  beneath  her,  and  never-ending  billows 
rolled  over  her,  making  her  their  prey. 

At  length  the  fore  part  of  the  ship  rolled  over, 
with  the  deck  towards  them,  severing  itself  com- 
pletely from  the  other  half.  The  decks  gaped 
wide,  and  opened  ;  the  sides  started  ;  the  foremast 
came  down  with  a  crash,  and  the  pitiless  waves, 
rolling  on  incessantly,  flung  themselves  one  after 
the  other  upon  the  wreck.  The  two  parts  were 
soon  completely  severed,  the  fore  part  breaking 
up  first,  the  other  half  resisting  more  obstinately; 
while  the  sea  was  covered  with  sticks  of  timber 
that  were  torn  out  from  her  and  flung  away  upon 
the  face  of  the  waters. 

At  length  the  ruin  of  the  fore  part  was  com- 
pleted, and  that  part  of  the  ship,  all  torn  asunder, 
with  all  that  part  of  the  cargo,  was  dissipated  and 
scattered  over  the  water  and  along  the  beach.  The 
other  half  still  clung  together,  and  though  sorely 
bruised  and  shaken,  seemed  to  put  forth  an  obsti- 
Tiate  resistance.  At  every  touch  of  the  waves  it 
rolled  over  only  to  struggle  back ;  it  rose  up,  but 
was  flung  down  again  upon  the  rocks  ;  it  seemed 
to  be  writhing  in  agony.  At  length  the  main- 
mast went  down  with  a  crash,  followed  not  long 
after  by  the  mizzenmast.  Then  the  fragment  of 
the  ship  suddenly  split,  and  the  entire  quarter- 
deck was  raised  up.  Here  the  waves  flung  them- 
selves, tearing  it  away  from  the  hufl.  But  before 
the  quarter-deck  was  altogether  severed,  the  rest 


32G 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


of  the  ship  gave  way,  and  parted  in  all  directions. 
One  by  one  the  huge  timber  logs  were  detached 
from  her  cargo ;  the  separation  of  the  parts  of  the 
ship,  and  the  dissolution  of  her  compact  cargo, 
gave  a  greater  surface  to  the  action  of  the  waves, 
which  now  roared,  and  foamed,  and  boiled,  and 
seethed,  and  flung  themselves  in  fury  over  every 
portion  of  the  disordered,  swaying,  yielding  mass. 
Fragment  after  fragment  was  wrenched  away  ;  bit 
by  bit  the  strong  hull  crumbled  at  the  stroke  of 
the  mighty  billows.  The  fragments  were  strewn 
afar  over  the  sea,  and  along  the  beach ;  and  the 
boys  saw  the  mizzen-top,  where  they  had  found 
refuge  on  that  eventful  night,  drifting  away  towards 
the  headland.  At  length  all  was  over ;  and  in 
place  of  the  Petrel  there  remained  nothing  but  a 
vast  mass  of  fragments,  strewing  the  rocky  shore, 
and  floating  over  the  sea  for  many  a  mile. 

Ail  this,  however,  was  the  work  of  hours.  The 
boys  watched  it  all  as  though  they  were  held  to 
the  spot  by  a  species  of  fascination.  There  seemed 
to  be  a  spell  upon  them.  They  could  not  tear 
themselves  away.  But  at  last  there  was  nothing 
left ;  nothing  but  floating  fragments ;  ">r  timbers 
flung  by  the  waves  on  the  shore,  with  which  the 
waves  seemed  to  play,  as  they  hurled  them  forward 
and  drew  them  back ;  while  of  the  Petrel  herself 
there  was  no  sign  —  no  coherent  mass,  however 
battered  and  beaten,  which  might  serve  to  be 
pointed  out  as  the  representative  of  the  ship  that 


Solomon's  succotash. 


327 


once  bore  them  all.  Of  that  ship  there  was  noth- 
ing left ;  she  was  dissolved  ;  she  was  scattered  afar ; 
she  was  no  more.     Such  was  the  end  of  the  Petrel. 

Hours  had  passed  while  the  boys  were  watching 
there.  At  length  they  started  back  to  their  camp. 
They  walked  on  in  silence.  There  was  a  certain 
sadness  over  all.  This  sadness  arose  in  part  from 
the  scene  which  they  had  just  witnessed,  and  in 
part  out  of  their  anxiety  about  Arthur  and  Tom, 
which  now  had  grown  to  be  serious,  since  they 
had  seen  with  their  own  eyes  the  power  of  the 
waves.  When  the  strong  ship  had  yielded,  what 
chance  had  that  frail  boat?  And  Arthur  and  Tom 
knew  very  little  about  navigation.  Where  were 
they  now  ?       :     ' 

With  these  sad  and  anxious  thouglits,  they  made 
their  way  back,  and  found  Solomon  in  a  state 
of  great  excitement  because  they  had  kept  dinner 
waiting.  They  found  that  it  was  past  three  o'clock, 
and  were  amazed  that  it  was  so  late. 

Dinner  was  now  served,  accompanied  by  lamenta- 
tions long  and  loud  from  Solomon,  who  protested 
against  such  neglect  and  indifference  as  they  had 
shown,  whereby  everything  had  become  spoiled 
from  waiting. 

'*  Now  dis  yer  dinna,  chilen,  am  no  common 
dinna,"  said  he.  "I  ben  makin  rangements  to 
hab  a  rail  fust-chop,  stylish  dinna,  and  hab  cocted  a 
new  dish  ob  succotash.  I  took  some  potted  corn  an 
biled  it  wid  the  beans,  an  if  dat  don't  make  succo- 


328 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


tash,  I  don'  know  what  do  —  dat'8  all ;  an  dat  ar 
succotash,  wid  do  ham,  and  oysta  chowda,  an  coffee, 
an  game  pie,  an  tomato,  had  ought  to  make  a  men- 
jous  good  dinna  ;  ought  so." 

The  boys  said  nothing.  They  were  hungry,  and 
they  were  also  sad.  For  both  reasons  they  felt 
disinclined  to  speak.  They  were  anxious  about 
Arthur  and  Tom ;  they  also  felt  mournful  about 
the  sad  fate  of  the  Petrel ;  thev  also  had  dismal 
forebodings  about  their  own  future ;  but  at  the 
same  time  they  were  most  undeniably  hungry,  rav- 
enously hungry,  in  fact;  and  Bruce,  who  was  most 
sad  and  most  anxious,  was  the  hungriest  of  the 
crowd.  " 

So  they  all  sat  down  to  dinner,  and,  first  of  all, 
they  devoted  themselves  to  Solomon's  succotash. 
This  was  a  compound  of  potted  corn  and  dried 
beans;  and  though  the  real  original  succotash  is 
a  dish  compounded  from  green  corn  and  green 
beans,  yet  this  was  no  bad  substitute  ;  and  they  all 
felt,  in  spite  of  their  sadness,  that  it  was  an  idea 
whose  originality  did  infinite  credit  to  the  culinary 
genius  of  Solomon.  •    '  >       .         ^ 

Now  they  had  about  come  to  the  end  of  the  succo- 
tash, and  were  looking  about,  like  Alexander,  for 
more  worlds  to  conquer,  or,  in  other  words,  for 
more  dishes  to  devour,  and  were  languidly  await- 
ing the  next  course  which  Solomon  might  bring, 
when  suddenly  a  wild  cry  from  Pat  roused  them 
all  from  languor  to  the  greatest  excitement. 


A  BEAUTIFUL   SIGHT. 


329 


"  Whoroo !  Thunder  and  turf !  "  cried  Pat ;  and 
he  sprang  to  his  feet  as  he  spoke.  "  Be  the  powers  ! 
but  it's  fairly  dead  I  am  with  joy  this  day.  0,  look  I 
0,  look  I  look,  boys  !  jools  !  see,  out  there  1  They're 
a  comin  for  us,  so  they  are  I  We're  saved  !  We're 
saved  !  Hooray  !  Hooray  I  0,  look !  It's  a  schooner ; 
she's  comin  for  us ;  she's  goin  to  take  us  out  o' 
this ;  and  0 !  but  it's  the  bright  clever  boys  that 
Arthur  and  Tom  are  to  come  back  so  soon,  and 
with  a  schooner  like  that  same." 

Long  before  Pat  had  finished  his  Irish  howl, 
and  while  he  was  yet  howling,  the  others  had 
sprung  to  their  feet,  and  were  looking  out 
to   sea. 

And  there,  rounding  the  headland,  and  bearing 
down  towards  them,  they  saw  a  beautiful  schooner, 
graceful  as  a  pleasure  yacht,  with  all  her  snow- 
white  sails  spread  wide  in  spite  of  the  fresh 
breeze  that  was  blowing,  as  though  hurrying 
towards  them  to  seek  and  to  save.  Never  had 
they  seen  a  more  beautiful  craft ;  but  its  own 
proper  beauty  was  now  increased  a  hundred  fold 
by  the  thought  that  their  safety,  their  rescue, 
their  deliverance,  was  the  purpose  that  guided 
her  here,  and  that  she  was  coming  to  restore 
them  to  home,  to  friends,  and  to  all  the  joys 
of  hfe.  .  . 

Three  cheers  1 

Yes,  and  three  more  ! 

Yes,  and  three  times  three,  and  nine  times  nine, 


330 


# 


PICKED   UP   ADRIFT. 


and  cheers  without  end  I  They  cheered.  They 
shouted.  They  danced.  They  hugged  one  another 
for  very  joy.  -.  ,.    ,     .,,,-» 

Solomon  joined  in  the  general  jubilation.  He  did 
this  by  standing  apart  and  bursting  into  tears. 

*'  Don't  mind  me,"  ho  muttered.  "  'Clar,  I  can't 
help  it,  nohow.  De  tears  will  come,  but  dey's  all 
tears  ob  j'y.  It's  ben  a  dreflul  tryin  time  to  me 
all  along,  chilen,  dis  ytr  time,  for  I  alius  ben  a 
feelin  an  a  thinkin  as  how  dat  I  had  some  han  in  a 
bringin  ob  you  to  dese  yer  stremities ;  but  I  held 
out,  I  bore  up,  all  for  your  sakes ;  but  now  all  am 
ober ;  an  0,  de  precious  sakes  I  dar's  a  ole  man 
hereabouts,  chil'en,  dat's  like  to  bust  wid  j'y  1 
Don't  mind  me.  All  right !  Hooray  !  All  safe  at 
last!  —  an  de  chilen  snatched  from  the  jaws  ob 
roonatium !  0,  do  go  way  now,  or  else  dis  yer 
nigga'll  bust  1 "      ,  ,  ,*:.. 

And  at  this  Solomon  really  did  burst  —  into 
tears. 

The  glorious  schooner  !  the  beautiful  schooner ! 
the  schooner  with  the  swan-like  form  and  the  snow- 
white  sails  I  She  plunged  through  the  waters,  the 
waves  foamed  about  her  bows,  as  she  lurried  on 
towards  them.  Arthur  and  Tom  were  there  ;  they 
knew  it,  or  else  how  should  that  schooner  come  so 
straight  towards  them  ?  No  more  fears  now,  no 
more  anxieties.  Arthur  and  Tom  were  both  safe, 
and  the  deep  joy  of  that  little  company  arose  more 
from  the  assurance  of  this  than  even  from  the  pros- 
pect of  their  own  rescue. 


THE   REUNION. 


331 


They 
another 

He  did 

I  can't 

3y's  all 
to  me 
ben  a 

an  in  a 
I  held 
all  am 

e   man 

id  j'y  I 

safe  at 
iws  ob 

lis  yer 

'.7,  Y  'J:.it...' 

—  into 

ooner ! 
'  snow- 
rs,  the 
led  on 
;  tlicy 
»me  so 
>w,  no 
li  safe, 
more 
J  pros- 


Tlie  schooner  came  near.  She  rounded  to  ;  she 
dropped  her  anchor.  A  boat  was  lowered.  Three 
figures  appeared  in  the  boat  —  one  rowing  with 
vigorous  strokes,  two  smaller  ones  in  the  stern. 
The  boat  came  nearer.  In  the  stern  they  saw 
the  two,  and  recognized  them  as  they  came 
nearer.  They  had  felt  sure  at  the  first,  but  now 
they  saw  with  their  own  eyes  Arthur  and  Tom ; 
and  0,  with  what  joy,  with  what  jubilation,  with 
what  shouts,  what  cries,  what  leaps  of  joy  !  Ar- 
thur and  Tom  waved  their  hands,  they  stretched 
out  their  arms,  they  called  out  incoherent  words, 
and  it  was  with  incoherent  words  that  those  on  the 
shore  responded.  • 

The  boat  grounded.  The  boys  ashore  rushed 
into  the  water  to  seize  Arthur  and  Tom  in  their 
arms.  Then  the  man  who  had  rowed  the  boat 
stood  up  and  looked  at  them.  They  saw  him. 
They  knew  him.  Captain  Ferguson  I  Tears  were 
in  his  eyes,  and  he  tried  to  hide  them,  but  couldn't. 
Captain  Tobias  Ferguson,  bold  sailor,  strong,  brave 
man,  broke  down  on  this  occasion,  and  cried  like  a 
child.  '         '  ^    ••  ■'"■       '* 

Then  he  went  about  shaking  hands  and  talking 
wildly.  He  grabbed  old  Solomon's  hand,  and 
shook  it  most  warmly.  He  asked  anxiously  about 
his  health.  Solomon  was  still  sobbing  and  crying 
with  utter  joy.  Neither  of  them  knew  what  he 
was  doing.  Both  felt  the  same  emotions,  yet  the 
emotions  of  each  arose  from  the  same  cause,  and 


332 


PICKED   UP  ADRIFT. 


that  was,  anxiety  about  those  boys,  whom  they 
loved,  for  whom  they  had  feared  so  much,  and  suf- 
fered so  much,  and  over  whose  safety  they  now  re- 
joiced with  such  deep  joy. 

Captain  Ferguson  did  not  say  much,  but  made 
them  all  get  into  the  boat  and  go  aboard  the  Fawn. 
He  did  not  look  at  their  camp,  nor  did  they  feel 
any  regret  at  leaving  the  work  which  had  caused 
them  so  much  toil.  Solomon  only  stipulated  that 
he  should  take  away  the  provisions  —  the  barrels 
of  biscuit,  the  potted  meats,  the  hams,  and  what- 
ever else  had  been  accumulated  there  on  that  des- 
olate shore.  Nor  was  there  any  reason  for  longer 
delay,  for  the  associations  of  the  place  were  by  no 
means  of  a  kind  which  they  chose  to  dwell  upon ; 
so  the  Fawn-  turned  her  back  upon  Anticosti,  and 
stood  out  to  sea. 

As  they  passed  the  headland  Bruce  pointed  out 
to  Arthur  and  Tom  the  broken  .  -^gments  of  the 
Petrel,  which  still  lined  the  rocky  shore.  But  the 
eye  of  Captain  Ferguson  was  turned  elsewhere. 
He  was  on  the  lookout  for  the  Antelope. 

II  We've  got  to  go  back  after  her,"  said  he.  "  If 
we  wait  for  her,  she  won't  be  here  till  to-morrow 
morning,  and  we  can  run  down  to  where  she  is  in 
less  than  an  hour." 

As  he  said  these  words  the  Fawn  passed  outside 
the  headland,  and  there,  far  away  to  the  east,  head- 
ing out  to  sea,  in  one  of  her  tacks,  ..as  the  Ante- 
lope.    There  she  was,- her  very  venerable  self  at 


a  they 
Lnd  suf- 
aow  re- 


b  made 
Fawn. 
ey  foel 
caused 
id  that 
barrels 
i  what- 
lat  des- 
longer 
)  by  no 
upon ; 
ti,  and 

;ed  out 
of  the 
ut  the 
where. 

"If 
Horrow 
e  is  in 

lutside 
f  head- 
Ante- 
jelf  at 


Corbet's  meeting  with  the  boys. 


333 


last,  the  schooner  for  which  they  had  so  often 
searched  the  water,  for  whose  appearance  they 
had  so  longed  and  hoped,  and  which  never  came 
through  all  those  weary  and  despairing  days.  Now, 
when  she  was  not  needed,  and,  in  fact,  was  not  par- 
ticularly wanted,  she  made  herself  visible. 

The  wind,  which  was  against  the  Antelope,  was 
fair  for  the  Fawn,  and  in  a  short  time  the  two 
schooners  were  within  hail.  Captain  Corbet  then 
made  the  best  of  his  way  on  board  the  Fawn. 

He  had  already  seen  the  boys,  and  guessed  all. 
When  he  stood  before  them  the  boys  were  all 
shocked  at  his  appearance.  Venerable  he  had 
always  been,  but  now  he  looked  ten  years  older"^ 
than  whcTi  they  last  had  seen  him.  He  was  also 
very  much  agitated,  trembled  /iolently,  and,  going 
around,  he  shook  hands  with  every  one  in  silence. 
Then  he  turned  away  his  head  and  wept.  The 
boys  all  felt  deeply  touched  at  seeing  this  exhibi- 
tion of  feeling  on  his  part,  and  even  Captain  Fer- 
guson looked  at  him  with  less  severity. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  do  believe  he's  shed  a  good 
many  tears  about  you,  and  if  he  did  bring  you  into 
a  scrape,  he's  suffered  e^iough  for  it,  I  say." 

After  this  his  treatment  of  the  venerable  navi- 
gator was  far  more  generous  than  it  had  hitherto 
been.  , 

"  I  ain't  got  much  time  to  spare,"  said  he,  "  cap- 
tain, but  I'm  bound  to  see  these  boys  in  a  place  of 
safety.     So  I  propose  to  sail  to  Miraraichi,  and  you 


SS-A  PICKED    UP  ADRIFT. 

hurry  along  as  fast  as  your  old  tub  can  get  through 
the  water.  I  understand  you're  all  going  straight 
back  to  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  and  I  don't  see  why  you 
shouldn't  be  able  to  do  that  much  safe  enough; 
so  I'll  deliver  up  the  boys  to  your  care  in  Mirami- 
chi.  I  think  T  can  make  them  comfortable  enough 
till  then  aboard  the  Fawn."  *      - 

Captain  Corbet  had  nothing  to  say  against  this 
decision,  but  meekly  returned  to  the  Antelope,  and 
prepared  to  follow  the  Fawn  to  the  destination 
mentioned.  As  for  the  boys,  they  were  deh'ghted, 
and  felt  only  too  glad  at  being  able  to  have  a  short 
cruise  on  board  such  a  vessel  as  the  Fawn. 

On  the  following  day  the  Fawn  reached  her  des- 
tination, but  the  Antelope  did  not  turn  up  until  a 
day  later.  The  boys  now  went  back  to  their  old 
quarters,  and  Captain  Ferguson  bade  them  all  good 
by.  Bailey  accompanied  him,  having  been  en- 
gaged by  him  as  one  of  his  crew.         "    ^ 

"  Wal,  boys,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  after  Fergu- 
son had  taken  his  departure,  "  we've  lived,  an  we 
hev  suffered,  an  hev  mootooly  ben  called  on  to  un- 
dergo triboolations  that  ftin't  often  met  with  in 
this  mortual  spere.  This  uthly  life  is  one  of 
strange  vycissitoods,  an  the  seafarin  life  has  fre- 
kent  ups  an  downs.  I  don't  think  I  ever,  in  all  my 
born  days,  was  called  upon  to  endoor  more  power 
mentual  tortoor  than  in  this  week  that^s  past  an 
gone.  'The  wust  of  it  all  was  the  thought  that  it 
was  my  fault,  and  mine  only.     So  now,  boys,  look 


FAREWELL. 


335 


1  rough 
traight 
liy  you 
longh ; 
lirami- 
jnough 

ist  this 
pe,  and 
i  nation 
iglited, 
a  short 

er  des- 
intil  a 
ir  old 
1  good 
2n  en- 

'ergii- 
an  we 
;o  un- 
ith  in 
le  of 
IS  fre- 
ill  my 
3ewer 
st  an 
hat  it 
,  look 


at  me,  and  take  a  warnin.  Bowar,  above  all,  of 
avarice.  Think  of  me,  with  my  plans  for  sudden 
wealth.  Terrew,  I  might  say  that  it  was  keer  for 
the  babby  that  animated  this  excited  boosom ;  I 
might  plead  the  alfection  of  a  absint  feyther  a 
yearnin  over  his  ofl'sprin ;  but  I  forbar.  1  pint  to 
my  unworthy  self,  and  say,  Bewar  !  Don't  ever 
allow  yer  young  minds  to  grow  delooded  about  the 
vain  and  glitterin  toys  of  wealth  and  fortin  !  See 
what  it's  cost  us.  We  derreamed  of  a  great  ship, 
and  cargo,  and  thousands  upon  thousands  of  pounds 
to  divide  among  us  ;  and  what  did  we  railly  git  ? 
Salvage  I  farewell,  good  by  to  you  forever.  Out 
of  all  our  derreams  we  hev  gained  nothin  but  the 
Petrel's  boat,  which  ain't  so  dreadful  bad  a  boat 
nuther,  but  contrariv/isc,  and'll  be  useful  enough 
yet,  maybe  ;  an  if  we'd  quietly  taken  that  thar 
boat,  and  ben  content,  we'd  a  ben  spard  all  this 
trouble,  which  shows  that  a  small  possibility's  bet- 
ter'n  a  big  impossibility.  Them's  my  sentiments ; 
and  among  the  lessons  which  I  hope  to  live  to 
inculcate  in  the  mind  of  my  babby,  the  most  im- 
portant shall  be   the   story  of  the  ship  that  we 

PICKED   UP   ADRIFT." 


'-■*? 


't^m"  "imnv'-"  my 


M, 


'■^^ 


-# 


''IW. 


■# 


*; 


^5*::" 


t:i 


REV.    ELIJAH    KEI.LOGG  S 


ELM  ISLAND  STORIES. 

Six  vols.    Kiiiio.    Illiistruted.    Per  vol.,  $1.25. 

1.  Iiion  Ben  of  Elm  Island. 

2.  Charlie  Bell. 

3.  The  Ark  of  Elm  Island. 

4.  The  Boy  Farmers  of  Elm 

Island. 

5.  The  YounK  Shipbuilders  of 

Elm  Island. 

6.  The  Hardscrabble  of  Elm 

Island. 

"Tliere  isno  si-iitimentalism  in  this  series. 
It  is  all  clowi»ri.i;lii  matter-of-fact  boy  life,  and 
of  course  tliey  are  deeply  interested  in  read- 
ing it.  The  history  of  pioneer  life  is  .so 
attractive  that  one  invohintarily  wishes  to 
renew  those  early  strnj;jj;les  with  adverse 
circumstances,  and  join  the  Inisy  actors  in 
their  successful  efforts  to  build  up  pleasant 
homeK  oil  our  sea-girt  islands."  —  /Jon's 
Herald, 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  P.oston. 


Wonderful  Stories, 

JUTLAND  SERIES. 

Fourvoln.    IlliiBtratod.    Set  in  a  nont  box,  or  sold 
separate.    Fer  vol.,  Jl.a). 

The  Sane  Hills  of  Jutland. 

Hy   Hans  Christian  Andersen.      i6mo. 
Illustrated. 

Yarns  of  an  Old  Mariner. 

By  Mrs.  Mary  c:owden  Clarke.     Illus- 
trated by  Cruikshank.   i6mo. 


M>QVy^ 

Illustrated  Natural  History,      ( 

YOUNG  HUNTER'S  LIBRARY.' 

By  Mks.  K.  ].<kk.     Four  vohunes.     Illustrated. 
Per  vol.,  11.50. 

The  Australian  Wanderers. 

The  Adventures  of  Captain  .Siiencer  and 
his  Horse  and  Dog  in  ^e  Wilds  of  Aus- 
tralia. 

The  African  Crusoes. 

The  Adventures  of  Carlos  and  Antonio 
in  the  Wilds  of  Africa. 

Anecdotes  of  Animals, 

With  their  Habits,  Instincts,  &c.,  &c. 

Anecdotes  of  Birds,  Fishes,  Rep- 
tiles, tStc,  their  li.ibits  and  Instincts. 

This  is  a  very  popular  series,  |>repared  for 
the  purjKJse  of  interesting  the  yMiuig  in  the 
study  of  natural  Iiistory.  The  exciting  ad- 
venlines  of  celebrated  travellers,  anecdotes 
of  sag.u;ity  in  birds,  beasts,  ^'c  ,  have  been 
interwoven  in  a  pleasant  manner.  This  se- 
ries is  not  only  very  interesting  but  is  deci- 
dedly prolitable  reading. 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  Boston. 


Schoolboy  Days. 

By  W.  H.  G.  Kingston, 
teen  illustrations. 


i6mo.      Six- 


^ 


Great  Men  and  Gallant  Deeds. 
By  J.  G.  Edgar,    i6mo.     Illustrated. 

Four  books  by  four  noted  authors  comprise 
this  scries,  which  contains  Adventures  by  Sea 
and  Land,  Manly  Sports  of  England,  Boy 
Life  in  English  Scliools,  Fairy  Tales  and 
Legends,  —all  handsomely  illustrated. 


LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  Boston. 


The   (ireat    JVest. 

THE  FRONTIER  SERIES 

Five  vols.    Illustrated.    Per  vol.,  $1.26. 

Twelve  Nights  in   the  Hunters* 

Camp. 
A  Thousand  Miles'  Walk  Across 

South  America. 

The  Cabin  on  the  Prairie. 
PlantinK  the  Wilderness. 
The  YounK  Pioneers. 

The  romance  surrounding  the  adventurous 
lives  of  Western  jiioneers  and  iinmigrants 
lias  suggested  nearly  as  many  stories  as  the 
chivalric  deeds  of  knight  errantry.  These 
tales  of  frontier  life  are,  however,  as  a  rule, 
characterized  by  such  wildness  of  fancy  and 
such  extravagancy  of  language  that  we  have 
often  wondered  why  another  Cervantes  did 
not  ridicule  our  border  romances  by  describ- 
ing a  second  Don  Quixote's  adventures  on 
the  iirairies.  We  arc  pK-ased  to  notice,  that 
in  the  new  series  of  Frontier  'i'ales,  by  Lee 
&  Shei»ard.  there  is  an  agreeable  absence  oi 
sensational  writing,  of  that  maudlin  senti- 
mentality which  m.ike  the-  generality  of  such 
tales  nauseouB."  —  Stamiitrd. 


LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  Boston. 


History.      ^ 

LIBRARY.  I 

es.     Illustrated.  : 


arers. 

in  Sjiencer  and 
Wilds  of  Aus- 


)s  and  Antonio 


icts,  &c.,&c.       ; 

Pishes,  Bep-  ; 

lid  Instincts. 

es,  prepared  for 
le  yMiii)^;  in  the 
'he  exciting  ad- 
illers,  anecdotes 
^tc  ,  have  been 
nner.  'I'his  se- 
iting  but  is  deci- 


blishers,  Boston.  ; 
\'e»t. 

^  SERIES 

ervol.,  tl.25. 

he  Hunters* 
A/alk  Across 

rairie. 

ness. 

}. 

jr  the  adventurous 
i   and   iiumiKrants 
lany  stories  as  the 
iiraniry.      These 
owever,  as  a  rule, 
huss  of  fancy  and 
„a^e  that  w-'  have 
iier  Cervantes  diu 
niances  by  describ- 
e's  adventures  on 
scd  to  notice,  that 
ti.r  Tales,  by  Lee 
•  leeable  absence  oi 
':»t    maudlin   senti- 
generality  of  such 
I  mi. 


le 


,1 


'^'^G^    

MISS    LOUISE    M.   .THURSTON  S 

CHARLEY  ROBERTS  SERIES. 

* 

To  be  completed  in  six  vols.     Illustrated. 
Per  volume,  $i. 

Ho-w  Ch:i»'lf»y  I  Robert  H  Bf»- 
oanio   ix    IVl.'tii.. 

How  Ttlva  Tiobert.H  Grained 
I-ler    iHjtliuratioii. 

Chai'ley    antl     Plva'.s    Moirie 
in.    the    West. 

(OtIterH  in  I'n-paration.) 

In  prciM'iitinp;  tJio  obove  now  Berics  the  piihlish- 
OPH  tx'lifVf  tlial  they  art-  milling  to  tliat  cIimk  (if 
jiiv<Hiili'  litrnitiirc  wIiuhc  iiitiiiisit-  worth  in  n'co;^- 
ni/cil  Ity  thiiN)'  who  havt-  iit  heart  the  (joud  of  tin- 
young. 

"Thi'y  ari'  ph-nsaiitly  written  hookx,  dt'Sfriptivo 
of  tlie  NtriiK;;l*'s  anil  ilithi'iiltirx  of  (.'harh'v  ami 
Kva  in  uttaining  to  nianhood  and  wonnmhood, 
and  they  an-  well  adapted  to  Ktiiniilate  a  nohic 
andiiliun  in  the  liourtN  ol'younj^  perHons.'* 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  Hosfcm. 


era,  Boston. 


"rarictJ  anti  SKtrntlitof." 

VACATION  STORY-BOOKS. 

Six  vols.     Illust.     Per  vol.,  80  cts. 

Worth  not  Wealth. 

Country  Life. 

The  Charm. 

Karl  KeiRler. 

W^iilter  Seyton 

Holidays  at  Chestnut  Hill. 


-•o«- 


ROSY  DIAMOND  STORY-BOOKS. 

Six  volumes.     Illustrated.     Per  vol.,  80  cts. 

The  Qreat  Ro.sy  Diamond. 
Daisy,  or  The  Fairy  Spectacles. 
Violet,  a  Fairy  Story- 
Minnie,  or  The  Little  Woman. 
The  Angel  Children. 
Little  Blossom's  Reward. 

ThcRC  arp  delinhtfnl  works  for  ehildron.  They 
are  all  very  popular,  anil  have  had  a  wide  cireula- 
tioii.  'i'hey  are  now  preNented  in  a  new  dreHR. 
The  BtorieH  are  nil  aniiiHinR  and  intitruetive,  ex- 
hihithiK  human  nature  in  ehililren,  and  teaching; 

Honit!  very  important  prartlcal  leiiiionfl. 

^         LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishen^  Boston. 

W^^^^f^^ I--- 


t/O) 


MAY    MANNER  INGS 

HELPING  HAND  SERIES. 

Six  volumes.     Illustrated.     Per  volume,  fi. 

CiiiTtl^iiis    the    I?.<»pe. 

Hilly    Gri'iines'.s    TTavorite. 

The  CiMii.Ke   <>i'   the   IDanha- 
way. 

TVie    Tjittle    Syianiard. 

Salt   AVater   Diolc. 

Tattlt?    Maid    of^  Oxbow. 

"•May  Mannerinj;'  it*  the  nom  de  filume  of  an 
a^reenttle  writer  for  the  younK  folkn  who  poHHesHeH 
more  than  iirdinury  altility,  and  haii  a  thorough 
ronipreheiiHion  idtlie  way  to  Intercut  ehildren."  — 
I'liikiileliiltia  Item, 

"  We  like  the  spirit  of  these  Ixiokfl  excpediiiKly, 
and  cordially  connnend  it  to  the  notice  of  .Sabhath 
.School  l.iiirarieH." —  Lathes'  tiejioxitory. 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  Boston. 


•*  Jfascinntiiifl  n«U  Hitstnirlibf." 

THE   PROVERB   SERIES. 

Pv  Mr.s.  M.  E.   Bkadi.kv  and  Miss 
Katk  J.  Nkki.y. 

Six  vols.     Illust.     Per  vol.,  $1. 

Birds  of  a  Feather. 

Fine  Feathers  do  Not  make  Fine 
Birds, 

Handsome  is  that  Handsome  does. 

A  Wronjc  Confessed    la   half  Be- 
dressed. 

Actions  speak  louder  than  Words. 

One  Good  Turn  deserves  another. 

"  Kach  volunip  in  complete  in  itself,  and  illu»- 
trati'H,  with  a  Htory  of  moMt  niAcinatin^  and  in- 
Htnictive  intercut,  the  proverb  taken  for  Itn  title. 
'I'licHe  are  jiiHt  the  kind  of  hiHikn  that  we  like  to 
Hce  in  a  family  r'r  Snnday-Bchool  library.  'J'bey 
will  be  rea<l  by  (H-rHona  of  all  affea  with  deep 
intereHt,  and  atford  iiiBtnicti»«(  and  entertaining 
converiwtiun  with  the  children."— 5.  S.  Journal.      ^ 


LEE  k  SHEPARD,  Publiahen,  BMton. 


§ 


•/cgy)^ 


